.# LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. t 






^hco/tititriUt <=A 



■{UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



j^ THE 

FUTURE LIFE 



AS 



DESCRIBED AND PORTRAYED 



BY SPIRITS, 



THROUGH 



MRS. ELIZABETH SWEET. 




\( 

BOSTON: 
WILLIAM WHITE AND COMPANY, 

BANNER OF LIGHT OFFICE, 
158 Washington Street. 

KRW YORK: LRANCH OFFICE, 541 BROADWAY. 

1869. 







*<t* 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 

GILBERT SWEET, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States 

for the Southern District of New York. 



MoCrea & Miller, 
stereotype rs. 



INTRODUCTION. 



At an early period of ray investigations into spiritual 
intercourse, when I was but an inquirer and by no means a 
believer, I was invited to join a circle which had weekly 
meetings at the house of Mrs. Fish, the eldest of the Fox 
family. I accepted the invitation, and met there some five 
or six persons, male and female, all strangers to me. 

After a few meetings, Mrs. Fish introduced two new 
members to the circle, Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert Sweet, alike 
strangers to me. They were very quiet and unobtrusive 
in their manners, and I soon discovered that they were very 
earnest and honest seekers after the truth. But I had no 
idea, nor had they, that there w^as any mediumship about 
either of them. 

At that time, my official duties compelled me to be ab- 
sent from the city one month out of every three. On one 
occasion, when I returned from such an absence, I was 
informed at the next meeting of our circle, that Mrs. Sweet- 
had begun to be developed as a medium. The fact itself, 
and the manner in which it was told to me, interested me 
at once. 

In the course of the evening this development began to 
show itself, but in a manner that was very repulsive to me. 

Our circle had been uniformly orderly and decorous, and , 
Mrs. Sweet was one of the most gentle, modest, and re- 
tiring among them. But on this occasion she was influenced 



2 INTBODUCTTON. 

to jump up from her chair and run around the room, ges- 
ticulating vehemently, and speaking in a loud voice, entirely 
alien to her usual manner. The exhibition was so repulsive 
to me, that I arose to leave the room. I threw my cloak 
around my shoulders, and then paused a moment, looking 
at the scene. While I was doing this she came up to me, 
and in a loud tone said, " You don't like this ? " I an- 
swered, " No ; I do not, indeed." At once the manifestation 
ceased, and she resumed her seat, and all was quiet again. 
Then through the rappings it was said, that they would 
influence her more quietly in future. 

At the next meeting of our circle she was again in- 
fluenced, and in a similar manner, though perhaps with 
less vehemence. I at once spoke, "Is this what you call 
influencing her more quietly ?" If she had been knocked 
down with a club, the manifestation could not have 
ceased more suddenly. From that time we had no more 
of that rudeness, but every thing that came from her had 
all the gentleness and modesty that so eminently charac- 
terized her. 

I was then too much of a novice to know what I after- 
ward learned, that this violence, which mediums at times 
displayed, was owing to their own opposition and resistance 
to the influence, and was necessary not only to overcome 
such resistance, but also to show the mediums that it was 
a power out of and beyond themselves. I have often found, 
in other cases as well as hers, that it was harder for the 
mediums — those especially who knew nothing of the phi- 
losophy of the subject — to realize and acknowledge the 
presence of the power, than it was for the uninfluenced 
spectator. 

In her case, it was the work of time to overcome her 
doubts and her reluctance, but finally, through her own 
singleness and purity of purpose, and the judicious action 



INTRODUCTION. 3 

of her husband, she became one of the best trance and speak- 
ing mediums I have ever seen. 

This occurred in the early part of 1852, but our circle 
continued at Mrs. Fish's until after I went South for the 
benefit of my health, in December of that year. 

In the mean time, I was in the habit of visiting her and 
her husband two or three times a week at their house, and 
never without receiving a communication from the spirits 
through her. Sometimes I went alone, and sometimes I 
had persons with me, but we formed no regular circle, for 
so complete was her development that no aid from a circle 
was necessary. And so far did her development progress, 
that it became no longer necessary to put her into a trance, 
which had been previously necessary to prevent the opera- 
tion of her own mind from interfering with the spirit's 
thoughts. 

Those thoughts came from her with great freedom and 
accuracy, the language uniformly good and much beyond 
what would be expected from her education, using at 
times words very pertinent to the matter in hand, but 
which she hesitated to speak because she had never heard 
them before, uttering sentiments from which she strenu- 
ously dissented, and giving expression to trains of thought 
far beyond the reach of any on which her mind had ever 
dwelt. 

I was in the habit of writing down with great care what 
was thus uttered, and ere long her husband adopted the 
same practice, and so committed to writing many commu- 
nications given when I was not present. 

In this manner was preserved a great mass of spirit- 
teachings of much interest and value. But it was not 
thus alone that such teachings through her were received 
and preserved. 

At almost every one of my private interviews at her 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

house, I would receive some communication from my wife, 
of which also I preserved the record ; and at the circle at 
Mrs. Fish's she would be influenced, and what she would 
then utter was also written down and carefully saved. 

My absence at the South continued about four months, 
during all which time I heard nothing from the circle ; and 
on my return in April, I hastened to Mrs. Sweet's to renew 
the spirit-intercourse of which I had been so long deprived. 
When I saw her, I learned that our circle had been for 
some time broken up, and that her powers had been 
suspended for at least two months. I could not get a word 
through her ! During the ensuing three weeks I called 
upon her several times, but always in vain. Not a word 
could I get. I went to other mediums, but with the same 
result. Determined " not to give it up so," I got five or 
six mediums together, desirous of forming as strong a 
battery as I could; and with their aid, through Mrs. Sweet, 
I received this communication from my wife : " She and I," 
it was said, " had prior to this used the intercourse for the 
purpose of our own selfish gratification. Now that must 
stop, and henceforth we must use the advantages awarded 
to us for the benefit of others." I replied that I*was 
ready to do so, and the answer was, u Very well, the means 
will soon be provided." 

Several weeks elapsed, during which I waited with what 
patience I could command, until one day an entire stranger 
spoke to me and told me of manifestations at his house, 
through himself and his daughter, which he wished me to 
witness. I did so, and discovered at once how great were 
his medial powers. This was Dr. Dexter, with whom I 
worked in harmony for a year or more, and with whom I 
formed a circle which met at my house, of which Mr. and 
Mrs. Sweet became members. 

At those circles she was frequently influenced, some- 



INTRODUCTION. 5 

times to speak alone, and sometimes in connection with 
other mediums ; and of those communications also careful 
records were made at the time and preserved. 

Thus during the three most active years of my investi- 
gation into the reality and philosophy of spiritual inter- 
course, I was intimately associated with Mrs. Sweet, and 
came to regard her as, to say the least, one of the most 
reliable of all the mediums whom I had seen ; and thus, as 
I have detailed, many of the manifestations through her 
were preserved. 

Some of them have been published, some in my volumes 
entitled " Spiritualism," and some in the newspaper or 
periodical publications of the day ; but they have never 
been gathered together into one book, and many of them 
have never been given to the world. 

She is now in the spirit-world. She died in August, 1859. 
During her life she always shrank, and would now, were 
she yet with us, shrink from the publicity which any such 
book would give to her name. But her husband, always 
impressed with the duty of placing within every one's 
reach the revelations given through her, and not confining 
them within his own knowledge, has determined to send 
them forth. This determination has long existed in his 
mind, and he has only waited for the time to come when 
his circumstances would be favorable to do so. That time 
having now arrived, he makes this publication. Most 
cordially do I commend his action, and sincerely do I believe 
that what he has now gathered together will afford to 
every sincere inquirer the great satisfaction which at an 
earlier day they gave to me. 

I have carefully read the MSS. of the papers which he 
proposes to publish, and I can vouch for their genuine- 
ness. They are no fabrications for a sinister purpose — no 
inventions of a later day — no contrivances to deceive or 



6 INTRODUCTION. 

mislead ; but they are, to my knowledge, teachings given 
through her at the times they purport to have been given. 

In my view, they have a peculiar value, not always to be 
found in our spiritual publications. As I understand.it, the 
great object of the present movement — as distinguished 
from the revelations of former days — is to reveal to us 
what is the nature and condition of the life into which we 
pass after death, all other manifestations of the day being 
merely subordinate to, and co-operative with this. All 
these communications through Mrs. Sweet, look directly 
to this end, and to the reflecting mind, they furnish a mass 
of evidence on that topic, of infinite value. 

Of their genuineness I have already spoken, so I have of 
her character; but yet not enough, perhaps, to inspire 
others with my own convictions of the purity of her na- 
ture. She always seemed to me to be — 

Pare as the snow-flake ere it falls, 

And takes the stain of earth, 
"Without a taint of mortal life, 

Except its mortal birth. 

And I commend this publication to the earnest consid- 
eration of all those, who, struggling through the mist 
which false teaching has thrown around the grave, are 
striving to learn what is the actual reality beyond it. 

J. W. EDMONDS. 

New York, January 20, 1869. 



OOTsTTEIsTTS. 



CHAP. PAGE 

I. — The Holy City ...... 9 

n. — Spiritual Message - - - - - 19 

III.— The Spirit Echo ' 23 

IV. — Powers and Responsibilities of Mind - 28 

V. — Communication from a Spirit - 33 

VI. — Spirit Life - - - - - - - . 37 

VII. — A Picture of the Future - - - - 40 

VIII. — Margaret Fuller 44 

IX. — Reasonable Words 50 

X. — Interview with Pollock ... - 59 

XL — New Desires 64 

XII. — John 0. Calhoun 68 

XIII. — Interview with Webster ----- 74 

XIV— A Second. Visit 81 

XV. — Another Interview 85 

XVI.— Reformation 92 

XVII. — The Path of Progression ... - 97 

XVIII. — Valley of the Shadow of Death - » 109 

XIX.— A Mirror 113 

XX. — The Book of Life - - - - - 118 

XXL — A Beautiful Lesson 122 



8 CONTENTS. 

CHAP. PAGE 

XXII.— Retrospection 126 

XX1IL— The Mechanic 129 

XXI Y — The Preacher 132 

XXV. — The Reception of Spiritualism - - - 135 

XXVI— The Drunkard - 139 

XXVIL— The Organ-Boy 146 

XXVIII. — The Man of Ease and Fashion - - - 150 

XXIX.— The Self-Satisfied 159 

XXX. — Natural Development of the Soul - - 16T 

XXXI. — Voltaire and Wolsey 173 

XXXIL— The Cynic 183 

XXXIIL— The Second-Birth - - - - - - 192 

XXXIV.— The Slave 196 

XXXV.— The Queen 203 

XXXVI— A Scene in Spirit-Land ... - 213 

XXXVII— The Miser 228 

XXXVIII— Spiritual Influence" 235 

XXXIX.— The New City - - - - - - - 238 

XL. — The Erring One 241 

XLL— The Idler 255 

XLII— The Beggar 262 

XLIII. — Insignificance of Man 265 

XLTV. — Capabilities of the Soul - - -* 268 

XLV.— The Skeptic 274 

XL VI. — Realities of Spirit-Life - - - - 286 

XLVIL— The Convict - 290 

XLVIIL— The Soul's Aspiration ----- 296 

XLIX.— The Dying Girl 299 

L. — The Inner Temple 307 

LI — The Foolish Mother 309 

LII — The Disobedient Son 312 

LIII — Cardinal Richelieu 319 

LIV. — Practical Nature of Spirit-Life - - - 323 

LV. — Glimpse of a Higher Life - - - - 328 

LVI. — Communication 337 

LVII — A Word from Voltaire 341 

LVIII — Home of Unhappy Spirits - 348 

LIX. — Experience of Voltaire - - - - - 359 

— Appendix 399 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTEE I. 

THE HOLY CITY. 

Given by Mrs. Hemans, September, 1S52. 

I saw a beautiful city afar off, and the name of that 
city was " Holy." The entrance therein was through 
a massive gate, and on either side stood an angel, around 
whose head was a soft halo of radiance, like unto the 
sun when fleecy clouds have softened the brilliancy of 
his ray; and their countenances were fair and beauti- 
fully serene with a pure and holy love, and they ever 
sang the hymn, u Holiness to the Lord." 

The angels who guarded that gate were called Con- 
stance and Truth, and many people were passing in and 
out. Some were clad in bright raiments and had 
radiant faces. Some had a lowly and downcast mien, 
and before they entered the gate were casting imploring 
looks, with this expression on their faces, "May I 
enter ?" Some strode along tall and majestically, their 
heads erect and their faces earnest, as if in pursuit of 
some great treasure to be obtained when they should 



10 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

enter that gate. Some were loitering in the path, and 
gazing wishfully as though afraid to approach. Some 
were trembling, and tears bedewed their cheeks, and 
they looked on one another saying, " Shall we approach ? 
we shall not be permitted to enter." Little children 
were traveling there hand in hand, and none of these 
emotions did I observe on their innocent faces. Care- 
lessly and hopefully, brightly and lovingly, they loitered 
along, and their little faces seemed glad with delight as 
they approached that beautiful gate, and gazed on those 
beautiful guards which kept the entrance. They did 
not ask, " May I enter ?" but they entered. The 
guards smiled, and the smile struck me as an exceed- 
ingly happy one. But why the careless, happy laugh 
of childhood should make them seem happier at the 
unconcern with which those little ones entered, was 
more than I could fathom. It struck me as remarka- 
ble. Much more important seemed the entrance of 
those people of full grovfth and developed minds, and 
yet how different, how varied were the emotions which 
each countenance, each walk, each manner and mien, 
and whole expression together betrayed, while passing 
before my vision. 

I also reached the entrance, and was permitted to 
enter; not, however, before I had asked one of the 
keepers the meaning of so much apparent incongruity 
of character exhibited by the concourse which had 
passed before me. The guards said, u Enter, and see 
for thyself with thine own eyes, and thine own eyes 
shall convince thee : " and I entered. 

I noticed in that vast city, that those whose faces 
were so radiant with joy and happiness, had come from 



THE HOLY CITY. 11 

a far-off country, to show the new-comers the localities, 
pursuits, and customs, and requirements of the country 
which they were now going to inhabit. And I ob-. 
served that those who had entered with so lofty a port 
and imposing a mien, with head so erect, so elevated, 
wore a disappointed look at the barrenness of the 
country. They had expected to be kings and masters, 
and to feed on the fat of the land. They did not seem 
to find the palaces, the luxurious dwellings made ready 
to receive them, which they had expected to find, and 
it seemed to me as though hastily-constructed palaces 
of happiness, before setting out for this country, had 
been suddenly overthrown. They looked lost, disap- 
pointed, jealous. They did not ask, "What shall I 
do?" but they asked u How is this? This is not the 
heaven to which we expected to come. It is a cold, 
barren, gloomy place ; nothing genial or bright to feast 
. the eye or please the soul. Why, we were led to expect 
a far different place from this. This surely can not be 
the heaven we were so often told was prepared for us." 
They seemed to fold their hands and stand in mute 
despair. They looked neither to the right nor the left, 
but there they stood, and gazed as it were on vacancy 
and hopelessness. How dark and bleak it seemed to 
them! 

I turned away from them and approached a form 
who seemed elated at having found something very 
pleasing. I stepped up and accosted the person. I 
inquired, u Why do you seem so glad ? have you found 
a treasure ? Nothing less could make you look so 
happy. I would participate in your joy." The figure, 
which was a female, looked on me with eyes streaming 



12 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

with tears. " Why, mortal/ 3 she said, " this is such a 
beautiful place. I am enchanted, I am delighted ; can 
it be possible that I can always live here ? Why, when 
I inhabited a coarse body, which now I find was a shell 
in which the spirit moved, I was unused to such a place. 
My fingers ached with toil, my heart was oppressed 
with sorrow, my limbs often refused to do their painful 
duties, and my spirit seemed bowed down to the dust. 
They told me I was such a sinner ; and the preacher 
warned me to beware of a fire prepared for such as I, 
who broke the commands of God, even to satisfy the 
cravings of hunger. I longed to live, because I dared 
not die. They told me God was pure and good, too 
pure to look upon such a sinner as I, because of my in- 
firmities. They told me I had turned my back on God 
by the life which I led; I had broken his commands. 
I had not entered the room where his word was 
preached because of my poverty and nakedness. I 
grew reckless, and thought I will live on my short day, 
and then let me perish. How dark, how very dark, 
the future seemed ! But when worn out w T ith disease 
and long suffering, my heart weary and heavy laden, I 
laid down, most unwillingly, too, my mortal body ; and 
when I awaked, a beautiful being came and took me 
by the hand, and led me a long distance from earth, 
and put me upon the road by which all those people 
have entered through that gate. I had not hoped to 
enter it, but I was impelled to enter by a power of I 
know not what. And when I entered it, why, what a 
beautiful place I found it ! Oh, I can not, can not de- 
scribe my joy and happiness. So many smiled upon 
me. They take me by the hand and welcome me. 



THE HOLY CITY. 13 

Such beautiful-looking people ! I did not think they 
would notice me — a poor creature like me. Why, every 
thing here dazzles my eyes with ecstatic beauty and 
splendor, which everywhere meets my view. The very 
ground I tread upon seems to be of such a brilliant hue. 
It is almost transparent, and yields to my touch. I 
neither know whether I walk or glide. It seems to 
me I do not tread at times. It is a gentle, undulating 
motion, so unlike the painful steps my poor weary feet 
used to tread. And oh ! how beautiful and green the 
grass appears ; and the leaves, they wave so gently in 
the wind. The air, which is wafted from the leaves 
across my brow, seems to fill me with such intense joy 
that I could soar as a bird in the air. Oh, what a 
lovely place is this! I see such broad and shining 
rivers, and moon, and sun — but so much more bright 
than I ever beheld on earth. How strange it all seems ! 
The very stars seem to smile as they twinkle, and music 
fills the air wherever I turn my ear. It is more heaven 
than I ever dared dream of — more than I could ever 
conceive. How I wish to go back and tell the world, 
my friends, of this lovely place ! They would not be- 
lieve me. Why, heaven is entirely too poor a name ! 
I can not tell you, it is so beautiful ! so beautiful ! 

" That radiant spirit met me and said, ' Poor mortal, 
poor child of clay, of sorrow, and of suffering, rest thou 
here. Here the wicked cease from troubling, and the 
weary are at rest. This is thy heaven, as long as it 
shall appear heaven to thee. But heaven is not a place, 
but an endless continuation of places.' " 

I then turned and beheld those loiterers. They were 
very slowly approaching in their journey through that 



14 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

great city. They seemed careless somewhat, doubtful 
somewhat, fearing their progress would every moment 
be impeded by some unforeseen obstacle placed in the 
way by some uncertain power. I approached a loi- 
terer and said, " Why do you tarry ? Why do you not 
hasten as your fellow-travelers are doing ? Have you 
no object in view — no desire to explore this unknown 
country ? Do you not wish for a guide ? Why, haste 
thee, loiterer ; the bright ones will outstrip thee, and 
thou wilt be left in the rear, and thy path become toil- 
some with none to lead thee." He turned upon me a 
look of inquiry, for I perceived he was a man, but I 
could perceive no earnest look in his eye, no heightened 
color in his cheek. He would take a few steps forward 
and turn, look back and pause, and then seem to shrink 
as though in fear, and anon would look forward. He said 
to me, u I never was in a hurry ; I never could make up 
my mind whether to be a Christian or a sinner, as the 
world calls it. I thought I would take the middle path 
and risk the future. I liked the world so well that I 
followed its precepts, and where duty was an easy path, 
very easily I walked therein. I was very contented to 
think that heaven should be my home, but further than 
this I did not search, thinking that many would be 
situated in the same position I was, and why should I 
fare worse than they ? Well, in this state of mind I 
cast off my body. I emerged into a country of whose 
character and bearings I was altogether ignorant ; in- 
deed, I am still fearful that I may have entered the 
wrong passage. Had I not better return and seek an- 
other entrance? This does not seem to me so much 
like heaven. I am afraid if I go on it will lead me to 



THE HOLY CITY. 15 

a hell they used to talk about. It makes me uneasy ; 
I don't like to crowd along. What is your opinion ?" 

I said, " Poor spirit, go on thy journey, learn wis- 
dom, and make up for lost privileges, for lost happi- 
ness, and for never-realized hopes. Ah ! poor mortal ! 
what have you not lost ? An uncertainty through life 
has almost become an uncertainty after death. Oh, 
thou radiant guide ! wilt not thou approach ? Wilt 
thou not tell this poor misguided soul how weak and 
unstable is the guide which makes unto itself a guide of 
others' opinions ? When the blind lead the blind, both 
shall fall into the ditch.," 

I turned from the sad spectacle, and near me I saw 
those trembling ones with tears upon their cheeks. 
Ah ! the tearful eyes, how sad they look, and yet how 
hoping ! Slowly they approached — tremblingly they 
lifted up their voice and exclaimed, " Oh, this place is 
so beautiful, we will not be permitted to stay. It is 
only a glimpse of heaven, only a thought of beauty to 
gladden us on our entrance into the shadows of the 
spirit-world. Why, they told us of the valley of the 
shadow of death. They told us of the path being nar- 
row and of the few that entered it. They must have 
been mistaken in the way they took those words, that 
passage. A great many are walking in that way ; we 
are walking in it. Oh ! oh ! it's heaven, it is heaven. 
It is the heaven we heard about, but it is the heaven 
we never expected to enter. It was kept at such a 
great distance from us ! They said it was the pure, the 
sanctified, the meek, and the lowly, and the God-fear- 
ing, the sin-hater, and the well-doing that enter heaven. 
We never thought we were the well-doers ; we never 



16 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

expected so great a boon ; we never anticipated being 
so near heaven — it seemed so very dim and distant. 
And now, here we are, and here is heaven ! Why, a 
short time ago we were down in the busy world, jostled 
in the crowd and overlooked — sometimes sneered at, 
sometimes scoffed at, often unnoticed. But, oh ! we 
did love God, we did right as near as we knew how, 
though not all they told us was right. We lived and 
died as mortals do, and here we are, some in one path 
and some in another, some in one direction and some in 
another, that leads to this beautiful country. Some 
are in fields, where grass is just beginning to grow; 
some walking through paths of shade and sunshine ; 
some are even picking flowers ; and some are seeking 
for treasures, which they call knowledge, which they 
sought for long on earth but never found, because of 
their inability to attain the gift. They have gone to a 
building- which they call a place of instruction, and they 
say that is a heaven to them already. They say their 
souls have ever hungered on earth without being satis- 
fied. Some of them are exploring the wonders and 
workings of nature, and some are exploring the wonder- 
ful machinery of their own being. All are engaged in 
labor, and all have kind friends called guides. Shall 
I tell you what the labor is called ? It is the natural 
labor of the human mind, which the eternal soul is ever 
engaged in, and that is Progression." 

The little children next attracted my attention. 
Little children! best and last! How careless and 
happy, with what ingenuous, beautiful, no-evil-fearing 
faces they enter. Hail ! little spirits ! How bright 
ye look. They do not weep. They do not shrink, nor 



THE HOLY CITY. 17 

tremble, nor turn back, but wander along in innocence 
and joy. Hither and thither they spread. One is 
attracted by a beautiful bird and chases that bird, 
drawn by his musical notes, and he laughs in the full- 
ness of his spirit's joy. Another has found a beautiful 
flower. Oh, how delighted he looks ! He bursts forth 
in a merry peal, and calls his little companions to gaze 
on the treasure he has found. Another hears sweet 
music, and has flown off to find it. As they wander off, one 
meets another, now a father, a mother, a brother, a sister. 
Oh, what a happy mingling of joy there is ! How de- 
lighted they seem ! Their heaven is all heaven, no 
cloud obscures their sky, but joyfully and trustingly they 
gambol and frolic in the beautiful pastures prepared for 
them. How it gladdens my spirit as I gaze on the 
scene! Oh, innocents, how trusting! How much 
nearer ye approach the Godlike nature of our Father in 
your happy beauty of trust ! Te know no evil, there- 
fore ye fear no enemy. The chain which unloosened 
you from heaven, as a spark of light, returned you 
through its links so untainted that ye scarce felt the 
transition. Happy ones, I leave you. 

Radiant spirits, I thank ye for the entrance ye have 
given me to a lesson to give to mortals below. Faith, 
thou art mine ; and Constance, I know thee, and thank 
thee right gladly. 

The city which I entered is that which is viewed by 
mortals in the flesh, and it seems to them that it is far 
off, because it is called " Holy." The entrance thereof, 
through that massive gate, is called Death — massive 
because the spirit's greatest entrance when cut loose 
from this sphere. And the angels on either side are 



18 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

the angels which usher us in, and the shining ones who 
were passing in and out of the city were those who 
are sent back to earth on errands of mercy and love. 

The city itself represents the heaven which all con- 
template as being their ultimate destination, whether 
they have lived, or felt, or expected a continued exist- 
ence; and different aspects of the same country to the 
different minds which arrived there, will show you 
wherein they had wisely or unwisely prepared for their 
never-ending journey. 

The gate is surely a golden one to many, and the en- 
trance is always and ever watched by spirits which are 
waiting to receive the traveler, who there commences 
his experience, guided by faith, led on by patience, sup- 
ported by love, inasmuch as his former life and sphere 
of affinities will enable lovely spirits to approach him 
upon his first entrance. 

And if this will enable any mortals to see in what 
relation they stand to the sphere of existence to which 
all are tending ; if it will show them in how great a 
measure they may enjoy that heaven on earth which is 
only a prelude to the actual state which they must all 
know and conceive for themselves in the different pic- 
tures which I have drawn, and many more which are 
not here shown, I shall have accomplished my task, 
and thank thee, O Patience ! 



SPIRITUAL MESSAGE. 19 



CHAPTEE II 

SPIRITUAL MESSAGE. 

An address to the Circle of Hope, by Apollos Munn, who had lately passed to the 
other life. — October, 1852. 

I perceive that I am at this time an unexpected vis- 
itor to you, and to the medium also. But for some time 
past I have been waiting for an opportunity to make 
myself known, that I might be enabled at times to con- 
verse with my friends on earth in whom I am so much 
interested. My feelings have lately been attracted to- 
ward the happy little circle in which you weekly assem- 
ble, and where you attract around you a class of spirits 
whose influences encircle you as with a wall of fire, the 
light of which shall repel all inharmonious spirits that 
do not love the light, because of their affinity for dark- 
ness. I see that this fire, kindled by love and harmony, 
which constitutes brotherly love, will closely bind you 
as with a chain whose links shall become more immov- 
able, as the desires of each shall fervently ascend to 
Heaven for strength to progress into the heaven on earth 
which you are all expecting to realize. And to attain 
this end, let each and all of you measure your own 
heaven by your own experience, extending your. mind 
to no greater than that which you are able to grasp. 
Be content with the unfolding of the germ which in due 



20 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

time will become a bud, and which, when the bud is 
sufficiently matured, will burst into a flower. But were 
the flower to unfold before it was sufficiently strength- 
ened to receive the rays of light, it would shrink back 
within itself, and be withered by the effulgence which it 
could not bear. My wish is, that every soul may see 
its own heaven. Oh, do not measure your own experi- 
ence by one another's, but look within your own hearts, 
and receive the draught of happiness in whatever meas- 
ure it may be meted out to you, and be assured that 
you receive as much as you are able to bear, though it 
may seem to come slowly. 

The spirits whose loving forms surround your dear 
circle, would fain fill you with their own gladness to a 
greater extent than they have been able to do ; but the 
power, the will, and the wisdom that direct for your ul- 
timate good, will it to be as it is. My dear friends, none 
should have any cause for complaint while enjoying the 
privileges of spiritual intercourse ; but you should re- 
ceive all messages from the spirits gladly, and with a 
pure desire for knowledge and wisdom and truth. And 
if you can not behold the fruits of your labors now, you 
should remember that you have been advised to be as 
little children, and being as little children, you will not 
ask the propriety of the lessons which you receive, when 
you feel that your instructors are doing all in their 
power to prepare you for the state in which to perform 
your works of duty, in the several paths in which you 
will be called upon to tread. A great work, to be greatly 
advanced, must be carried along slowly, continually, and 
steadily, yet with an unwavering faith. The workmen 
must first lay a sure foundation, which must first com- 



SPIRITUAL MESSAGE. 21 

mence in their own minds ; and when the foundation is 
sure, solid, and unshrinking, then it is time to proceed 
swiftly with the rearing of the structure, the greatness of 
which will require many and all manner of laborers be- 
fore it shall attain its perfection. And patience, hope, 
trusting, and long-suffering, will be requisite for each 
and all, while this mighty work proceeds. 

Will any murmur, if even a lifetime should be spent 
in endeavoring to cast a ray of light on the path of 
their fellow-travelers, that they may also know and ex- 
perience the beauties of the light which has been shed 
upon your way ? And is not the enjoyment of this light 
richly worth seeking for ? Does it not cast a gleam of 
joy upon your souls w T hen they are heavy-laden ? and 
does it not come to you as a ray of sunshine when all 
looks dark in your material state? As ye seek so shall 
ye also find, and when the desires of your heart shall 
knock at the door of the inner world, it shall be opened 
to fill you with the joy for which you are seeking. My 
soul was glad, before it left the form, in the knowledge of 
this truth, and it continues to rejoice with a joy unspeak- 
able. And my researches in the things which eye hath 
not seen, nor ear heard in your earthly sphere, fills ljie 
continually with a glory which is the very essence of 
all joy. And they tell me that I am yet a very child 
in the enjoyment of the rest which is prepared for those 
who love truth ; and spirits who do not love the truth, 
are attracted toward its light by the power of the love 
which doeth all things well. Be ye dwellers in the green 
and shady valley, and listen to the quiet murmur of the 
6tream wliose waters are as a deep flow of joy. Seek 
not to climb the mountain while you are yet feeble, but 



22 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

enjoy the beauties within your reach, and let the moun- 
tain come to you. When you have become sufficiently 
strong, you will not be overcome by the brightness of 
the light. My desire is, that your circle may be one of 
love, harmony, and usefulness. 



y 



THE SPIRIT-ECHO. 23 



OHAPTEE III. 



THE SPIRIT - ECHO. 



Given October 16, 1852, by Voltaire. 



There is a lofty light to be attained by the most un- 
sophisticated mind. When the inward germ becomes 
reanimated by the warm beams which penetrate through 
the garb of materialism, the unthought-of fire which 
has long smoldered in silence and darkness, is suddenly 
aroused from its death-like sleep and comes forth to 
embrace a kindred life. 

Mankind are only required to examine the pure in- 
stincts of their own nature which God has given ; and 
then by these may they prove the truth that Nature will 
never deny Nature, whether in the human form or the 
vegetable kingdom, but that it is ever attracted and 
commingled together in its finer elements, though these 
may be unseen by the grosser sense which is unable to 
perceive the secret and hidden metamorphosis which all 
things are undergoing, both material and spiritual. 
Here is seen the great law of human nature. As the 
ties of affinity, more than kindred, attract individuals 
to each other while in the form, so the same law acts 
in like manner on spirits out of the form, attracting 
them to those with whom they have an affinity on earth ; 
— and this too in cases where there is no apparent fitness 



j 24 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

between the individuals so attracted, even as in the 
animal kingdom the law of affinity brings together ob- 
jects which are seemingly incongruous, from the want 
of an outer similarity to manifest the principle by which 
they are united. 

Thus you may perceive by searching more deeply 
into the matter, that kindred sparks may be lodged in 
the most uncouth and ill-seeming coverings. One may 
have existed in some unknown corner of time and place, 
or may have lived its life on this stepping-stone to 
another state of transition, and mayhap when centuries 
have rolled away in the distance, the twain-born of 
that spark may have received a conscious being on the 
earth, and may have learned and unfolded in such a 
degree as to feel the need of its kindred heart, to which 
it is drawn by a deathless affinity. If this has long 
since passed from earth, it will seek long and earnestly 
for the answering voice — perhaps in books, perhaps in 
silent thought, and perhaps the channel of communion 
has been so closed up that the seeker returns in disap- 
pointment, and then searches again in another direc- 
tion. Some have lived a lifetime on the earth and 
have not been drawn to it until they have entered a 
higher state of existence, and others have felt its con- 
stant presence in their very hearts. 

The spirit has also an echo of love, purity, and wisdom 
answering to its deepest prayer. In this thought how 
much of human progress is involved ! The echo — the 
answer of the soul — has been sought by some in the 
dawn of life, when hopes are bright and imagination 
ardent ; and to such it comes warm and glowing with 
a sense of inward light and joy. Others have felt a 



THE SPIRIT-ECHO. 25 

craving for their spirit-echo, but have allowed the at- 
traction to be overcome by the appetites of the out- 
ward man; but oh, this desire will come back at a 
future time with renewed power, and then the soul asks 
itself, can I now receive the kindred which I have put 
so far from me — which I have repelled by my earthly 
desires ? — but yes, that kindred knows me, it speaks to 
me, and with a deep-toned voice bids me seek for the 
food which has been denied by the gluttony of the body. 
Some have gathered a little here and a little there, and 
have made for themselves a compound of fragments 
without shape or beauty, which they have gazed upon 
and worshiped in the vain belief that their inward echo 
has received its demand. Ah ! self-deceived mortals, 
why so easily satisfied with the gaze of the eye and 
the opinion of the many ? The deep of the heart hath 
not answered to the shallowness of this tiling ! — else 
not so cold and heartless would seem the treasured 
idol, but a pure and holy joy would gush forth as from 
a mighty deep to answer the rising prayer of the spirit. 
Ask thy heart truly, O man, if thou hast found thy 
echo, and truly thy heart will answer, I hunger still ; 
not in outward seeming — not in shadowy forms — not 
in off-told tales — not by gazing at other hearts, shall 
mine be satisfied ; oh, I hunger, hunger still ! 

Another goes forth clad as with a raiment of 
strength and with a heart which is ever open to re- 
ceive an answer to its yearning. He wanders in the 
beautiful fields of Nature, and there his spirit-echo 
meets him. Oh, how joyfully the soul welcomes its 
answering voice ! with what deep rejoicing the spirit 
meets its kindred ! The soul says, Behold the flower ! 
2 



26 THE FUTURE LTFK. 

how glorious in its simple beauty ! — and the echo says, 
How beautiful are all things ! are they not shining 
with the light of God, and ever radiant with his smile ? 
And thus the sparks — the kindred sparks, the soul and 
the echo, mingle together ; and that man returns to 
the busy haunts of men, and to the turmoil of life, as 
a giant refreshed with new wine. The echo has given 
him new strength — it has opened his heart to receive 
new thoughts — it has inspired him with new life and 
hope, and has given him, mayhap, a new glimpse of 
heavenly beauty ; and now it has gone for a season that 
it may return with a brighter gift when again it shall 
be required. That man has found his answering echo 
here, and it is ever opening, enlightening, and beauti- 
fying his soul. Ah ! they will not be strangers, but 
old friends, when they meet each other in the land of 

joy. t 

Still another is ever-wishing and ever-seeking for his 
kindred echo, and he can not find it because he will not 
seek for it where it may be found. He would descend 
to the depths of the ocean ; he would explore the dark 
corners of the earth ; he would seek afar off where eye 
hath not seen ; he would weary himself with long re- 
search and subtle reasoning, and behold all places are 
barren, and he comes back with an empty hand ; he 
finds no flower in the forest, no rose in the bowers of 
beauty, and no pearl in the deep sea. These researches 
do not satisfy him. Oh, no ! he is seeking for what 
mortals have not possessed — for something which tran- 
scends their highest wisdom ; and that man has con- 
stantly driven his echo away — he has driven it down into 
the dark depths where he has earnestly sought it, but 



THE SPIEIT-ECfiO. 27 

where it may not be grasped ; and while it has ever 
struggled to approach him, it has been repelled by a 
too low desire. 

And yet another seeks his echo, and it is a child. 
Because of an undisturbed affinity, the echo has been 
ever received as a guest in that mansion ; naturally and 
harmoniously it mingles with its sister-spirit ; and as 
that soul matures, the echo strengthens its voice; and 
no vain hunger is there felt, because the heart has found 
the food which satisfies its inmost cravings, and which 
makes it ever joyful in viewing all things beautiful and 
good. Now it seeks not for mysteries, for Nature hath 
no mysteries but those which she herself unfolds, and 
the works of God are all grandly and majestically 
simple ; and so that child-spirit which seems so untu- 
tored is Nature's child, and hath an echo of love and 

wisdom. Therefore shall it drink in all beautv and 

«/ 

revel in all joy even here, because it has listened to the 
divine voice ; and oh, how chaste, how pure, how 
beautiful it looks in the sweet light of love ! 

Oh, children of earth, turn from your lofty structures 
erected for the worship of the Most High, and go forth 
beneath the star-lit canopy to receive with inward joy 
the echo — the spirit-echo, which shall meet you, it 
shall embrace you, and fill you with love, with joy, and 
with peace unutterable. Oh, the unsophisticated mind 
is indeed capable of high development! 



28 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTEE IV. 

POWERS AND RESPONSIBILITIES OF MIND. 

Given by Lorenzo Dow, October 20, 1852. 

The human mind is a wonderful piece of mechan- 
ism, whether considered in its parts or as a whole. It 
presents so many different phases of thought and char- 
acter, that the most expansive perceptions which have 
not explored the secrets of Nature as contained in the 
human body, will fail to detect all its varied shades, 
which are as changeful as the tints of the rainbow. 
The close observer may find much to interest and 
instruct in the variety of intellectual characteristics 
presented to his view. But all men must perceive 
how difficult a thing it is to know themselves, and how 
can they expect to know fully the elements of which 
the minds of their fellow-men are composed? It is 
only the more prominent traits of character drawn out 
by surrounding circumstances, which first present 
themselves to view ; and I say, O man, do not prejudge 
thy fellow-man by that which is said to be his character 
in society, but rather say that his character is formed 
by society. 

"When closely observed by the interior sight, the hu- 
man mind presents to view a mighty world of slumber- 
ing faculties, unawakened ideas, and aspirations for 



POWERS AND EESPOXSIBILITIES OF MIND. 29 

trutli and purity which have been long buried in dark- 
ness and corroded by the rust of time. How, then, 
can it be expected that man will exercise the faculties 
of his nature when he has never known of their exist- 
ence? If those who have studied the peculiarities of 
mind would assist human nature to show itself in its 
true aspect, they would greatly assist in the work 
which they are anxious to see accomplished. 

In looking around on the several phases of society, 
you will perceive that many are ever seeking for some- 
thing to awaken or gratify curiosity, and it does not 
matter materially what shape this may assume, if the 
appetite be satisfied. But the next class comprehend 
those individuals whom you term inquirers ; and these 
represent the minds which become most useful to 
society in the investigation of important truth. When 
curiosity settles into inquiry, and inquiry into deep 
thought, the springs are set in motion that act on the 
dormant faculties of the mind which have hitherto 
remained unknown ; and as one by one they are 
brought forth into action, they are moved by con- 
stantly new incentives and find ever higher objects to 
be pursued. In this manner, when the proper springs 
are touched, the latent energies of the mind will be 
developed, and the character of the individual will be 
remodeled and beautified, simply by calling into action 
the powers which were already in his possession un- 
known to himself. 

The general teachings of the present day are of such 
a conflicting and fluctuating nature, as to create rather 
antagonistic feelings, than sentiments of harmony. 
One party maintains teachings which are in direct op- 



39 THE FUTURE # LIFE. 

position to those of another, and each exclaims, " Walk 
in the path which we are treacling, for it will surely 
lead you to the haven for which you are seeking — our 
teacher can explain all things to your satisfaction." 
And still another and another party walk with like 
texts upon their hearts. And shall these men say, we 
follow the Bible ? I say, they follow the teachings of 
the different minds which put different constructions 
on the same revelations. Then what man shall say 
(and feel secure), I am right and you are wrong ? or 
who shall say, I worship no graven image, but the 
image of the living God ? 

My friends, this mingling of so many rights makes 
one great w T rong of society as it now exists. The pres- 
ent social structure is inharmoniously organized and 
disorderly arranged ; for the man of might is the man 
of right, and that only by the authority which his 
might gives. And the man of honesty is oftentimes 
the man of beggary, through the advantage which the 
man of selfishness gains, making him a stepping-stone 
to the throne of power, whereon Mammon sits en- 
throned, wielding a brazen scepter, which is called 
gold, — and before whose presence the man of need 
and the daughters of drudgery, the hewers of wood 
and the drawers of unclean water for unclean purposes, 
are made to bow in humble submission. And who 
shall say that wrong will make right, until the wrong 
of oppression is taken from the hands of the oppressor ? 
The strings which have vibrated in his heart are those 
of avarice and ungodly gain, and the might which he 
exercises so unjustly, keeps the hearts of the oppressed 
from catching even a glimpse of the treasures which 



POWERS AND RESPONSIBILITIES OF MIND. 31 

lie concealed within their own being, thus shutting out 
from them the light which it is their right to enjoy as 
sons and daughters of a common Father. Ah ! that 
wrong tramples upon a great right, and its course may 
be traced to the very depths of misery and iniquity 
which are filled by a combination of wrongs. And as 
we gaze upon the vast picture of dreary desolation, 
and shudder at the black and repulsive appearance of 
the surrounding world, we feel that a great work is to 
be carried on, executed, and accomplished. A mighty 
work it is, to stir up the fountains of the human heart, 
that men may become alive to the state of those whom 
they call brothers. How much they make this a term 
of derision ! — and, by the very mention of such rela- 
tions, they seem to disgrace the Parent who could so 
unwisely divide the inheritance of earth among those 
who are called his children. Thinking minds will ask 
themselves the question, are we not robbing our broth- 
ers of their birthright ? and the more fully and evenly 
developed minds will see the immediate cause for action 
in themselves. 

When the character and responsibilities of every 
mind is placed in this light, it will be easy to perceive 
where the path of duty lies. And I am persuaded 
that all who wish to perform that important part of 
life called duty, will have an ample scope for indulging 
their desire. There will be no necessity for one look- 
ing upon another and saying, What shall we do to be 
saved %— but each individual must take the work into 
his own hands to save his fellow-man from the state 
which has been induced by darkness of mind and 
oppression of soul. This is a work in which angels on 



32 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

high, whose robes are pure and shining with holy light, 
rejoice to be engaged in ; and, mortal man, think never 
that thou art free from responsibility to Heaven, so 
long as the condition of thy fellow-beings on the earth 
— thy brothers and sisters — requires the talent which 
God has given to thy mind, and which in time will be 
required of thee as being increased or diminished by 
the use to which it is devoted. 



COMMUNICATION FROM A SPIRIT. S3 



CHAPTER V. 

COMMUNICATION FROM A 

2fove?nber 6, 1852, to his Brother who was a member of Hope Circle. 

My experience as a spirit in the land of spirits has 
not been of long duration, and I can not give yon as 
mucli information as others can ; but I have been here 
long enough to realize the difference in the degrees of 
happiness to be enjoyed, which men make unto them- 
selves, and it has been my ardent desire of late to come 
to you and impress on your mind to persevere in your 
praiseworthy efforts for the good of your brothers of 
humanity at large. Persevere in the work you have 
begun. Could you only see the good which is about 
being accomplished, you would become so strong that 
you could battle the world in the cause of truth — truth 
which will come to the world as fast as the world can 
be prepared to receive it. 

This truth is so simple, so natural, as to be mixed in 
your every-day walks. Why, as you walk the streets, 
you may look up and receive divine wisdom from on 
high, and grasp at the divine revelation which is ever 
at hand to him who earnestly desires it. 

The more the mind expands, the more it is fitted to 
enter the sphere of progression, and to diffuse truth 
when it returns to earth as I do now. I mourn over 
2* 



34 THE FUTUEE LIFE. 

the time I lost on earth. I buried every talent deep 
out of sight. Yet I had thoughts which neither you 
nor any mortal man knew of. My soul thirsted for a 
something, it knew not what, but I shut its longings up 
— I repressed them — and oh ! what have I not lost ! It 
was only when I came here that my longing was grati- 
fied. Thank God ! There is such a thins: as Prosres- 
sion — such a thing as enjoying here the lessons I should 
have learned before. 

As soon as men's minds become prepared for spiritual 
intercourse, so soon will it come to them and in different 
forms — simply, beautifully, grandly, and it will become 
a reality that will be felt in every household in the 
land. 

What an amount of good will be accomplished by it ! 
It will bring heaven and earth closer together, and it 
will draw the loved ones from out the shades of uncer- 
tainty where they have dwelt. Who can refuse the 
message ? It is the mission of the loved ones in heaven 
to bear to earthly hearts the messages of love and affec- 
tion. Through them the soul shall be carried higher 
and higher. Ask for more, and more will be given 
you. 

Prepare the minds of men for the truth. Drive in 
nail after nail — the work will be accomplished in the 
end. It will be like planting seed, which will spring 
forth and gladden many hearts, though you may not 
see it now. Be humble and sincere in this great work. 
It is no child's play. It is a solemn duty that rests on 
each one. 

Weigh not your experience by the past, but look ever 
inward, and ask for greater light. By leaning on past 



COMMUNICATION FKOM A SPIRIT. 35 

experience alone, you look only to a patli long since 
traveled over. Can you not look upward and forward, 
and ask for a fresh stream of love ? And do not shut it 
out by your doubts, and refuse to believe, unless it come 
to you with a vehemence that shakes the foundation of 
your soul. 

Past experience is well to think upon, but present 
experience is better to act upon. The soul in its natural 
expansion, when under spiritual development, is con- 
stantly digesting and realizing heavenly thoughts, but 
it is restrained by the doubts and hesitation, I will not 
say skepticism, of the mind. 

"Why, friends, could you only perceive the bright 
spirits who are hovering around you, you would be 
astonished — you would stretch your arms out in expan- 
sion to receive the floods of light. Do have more hope ! 
Do be more spiritual! How much you lose by indulg- 
ing the feelings of doubt and distrust. You repel the 
spirits from you. You must be more congenial with 
them. Do not repel the spirits, and each will tell his 
own tale. In every heart there is a fount from which 
will well up living streams, and you will receive in- 
spiration from Heaven ; but inspiration will come only 
to them who seek its influence. 

My friend, a great many things which I have imper- 
fectly spoken have been whispered to me by surround- 
ing spirits, who wish to speak to you a word of comfort 
and of reproof, too. Are you astonished at my language ? 
I have had very many teachers, who have led me to so 
soon and so thoroughly change my sentiments. 

I feel myself much more at home here than I did on 
earth ; and it is because 1 live with that to which I am 



36 THE FUTURE LITE. 

attracted. I now live my real life, and new thoughts 
are ever flowing in upon my soul. 

How thankful I am to see you so engaged, and that 
I am permitted to come and speak to you. 



THE SPIRIT-LIFE. 37 



CHAPTEE VI. 



THE SPISIT-LIFE. 



The following communication, purporting to emanate from the spirit of Henry Clay, 
was given to a circle in this city, in July, 1852. 

Is it indeed possible that the Lord in his mercy has 
permitted me, worm as I am, to enjoy this great privi- 
lege of standing in spirit and addressing mortals 
below ! 

My sojourn in the land of spirits has been very short, 
and my experience necessarily limited. My actual 
knowledge of a true and rightly conducted life has but 
just begun. True life: not a life which is antago- 
nistical to spiritual truths, whose soft whisperings at 
times penetrate the heart of every man, even amid the 
turmoil and excitement of a worldly career, carried on 
in an increasing round of conflicting passions, hopes 
and fears, and longings for that which may not always 
be grasped ; but a life of an entirely different nature. 
Ambition no longer absorbs my soul with her dark- 
hued wings. Party spirit no more dispels the bright 
visions of happiness from my view. But here, love 
and unity bring light and joy imperishable. Now I 
discover that even the desire for a nation's welfare was 
too much interwoven with the love of self-aggrandize- 
ment. I see also that men of high intellect, whose 
vigorous thought swayed the mass of mind, and whose 



38 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

splendor of eloquence misled the senses, now but faintly 
shine in the dim distance. The eloquence of earth is 
not at all times borrowed from heaven, and the fiery 
intellect is not always kindled by the light of purity 
or the intensity of love. 

The vast voice of a nation, as the voice of one man, 
will yet ascend on high to the power which shall en- 
lighten the people and unchain them from their moral 
and social slavery: the slavery of human custom, 
and conventionalities, and. approbation, which often 
leads men to forget their duty to themselves, their na- 
tion, and their God. 

And now I am rejoiced that the light from heaven, 
which is to baptize the nations, has broken in upon my 
soul; and I could bow my head to the dust in shame 
and grief that the still small voice of conscience was 
so long unheeded by me, and which would have led 
me to behold this pure and beautiful light. I was a 
statesman on earth, but am a child in heaven. There 
I was thought a sage ; here I am a novice : but even 
this novitiate is to me more deep in knowledge, and 
yet more fraught with mystery, than ever my mortal 
mind conceived. My highest earth-born thought w r as 
far too low to reach to heaven. My worldly wisdom 
availed me not, when my new life commenced. 

It is very beautiful to become a little child again ; 
and now I understand the meaning of the words — " Ye 
must be born again ;" and in true sincerity and grate- 
fulness I feel that I am born again — in a life where 
the vanities of earth have faded from my view, and the 
bright glories of heaven are opening upon my soul. 

Oh, soul made pure, be thankful for thy high estate, and 



THE SPIRIT-LIFE. 39 

adore thy God who hath endowed thine eyes with light, 
and thy soul with the ability to enjoy the pure beau- 
ties which crowd upon thy new existence ! And yet 
how I am overwhelmed with the foreshadowing of the 
glory which is yet in wait for me. But now a form of 
brightness appears, and saith unto me, " As thy day is, 
ao shall thy strength increase ; and thou shalt grow 
and wax stronger in the stature of wisdom and the 
might of love." 

I am surrounded by those who have passed from 
earth, and who are, like myself, exploring the wonders 
of this heavenly land. The realities become more and 
more transcendently sublime as we proceed. And the 
beauties of knowledge are increasingly unfolded : more 
vast and commanding becomes the wide-spread plain 
of glory, as we travel on in our heavenly path, guided 
by wisdom supreme and love unbounded. 

Follow up this good path, friends. I regret that I 
did not commence sooner. 

Question, by a member of the circle. — " Did you be- 
gin at all while on earth ?" 

Answer. — " Faintly and feebly, as a child begins to 
walk. I possessed not the strength which comes from 
above." 

Question. — " Did you believe in those manifesta- 
tions ?" 

Answer. — "I believed in a great deal more than 
I admitted, even to myself." 



40 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTEE VII. 

A PICTURE OF THE FUTURE. 

November, 1852. 

At a recent meeting of the Circle of Hope, the fol- 
lowing communication was received from a spirit, pur- 
porting to be that of Joan of Arc. Some of the cir- 
cle- not being familiar with her history, it was men- 
tioned that she had, by the sacrifice of herself, redeemed 
her country — France. 

She said- — Yes ; and France has to be redeemed 
again. I am not the first of the martyrs who lost 
their lives in the cause of truth and freedom ; nor shall 
I be the last, even at this late day of the world's en- 
lightenment. 

But, friends, it is not to bring this gloomy picture 
before your eyes that I have come to-night. Oh, no ! 
It is with a far different object. The light and glory 
which have been cast around me in my Spirit-home, 
give me a holy and beautiful theme to dwell upon. 
Not for me alone to dwell upon, nor for spirits alone, 
nor for angels alone to dwell upon, but for mortals too. 
Yes, for mortals ! 

In the darkness and superstition of the past, which 
are passing away with all their gloomy forms and fancy- 
fraught terrors, comes the light of revealed love and 
wisdom, as the harbinger of peace, joy, hope, and re- 



A PICTUIUC OF THE FUTURE. 41 

demption to be wrought on earth. Martyrs who have 
suffered for the glorious cause of truth, lift up your 
heads with joy ineffable! Gaze down on earth again, 
and rejoice to see the fruits of your heaven-directed 
labors ! Behold now the seeds which have smoldered 
for a season ! Lo ! they are springing forth and gaining 
might. The dark past is passing away ; and the bright 
future ! — how it gleams before me ! The strength which 
cometh with the white-winged messenger is being felt. 
Its power is spreading — its love is directing — its might 
is finding the mighty as well as the lowly of earth. 
Oh ! the deep springs which have been opened in many 
hearts, from king to peasant, are becoming breathed 
upon by the spirit of progressive and life-beaming 
light ! "Who shall withstand the power of that light, 
which comes as a stream in whose placid waters they 
may bathe ? 

And lo ! Truth cometh ! Lo ! it groweth. The 
meek and the lowly of earth receive with heartfelt joy, 
as the dove bearing the olive branch of peace — the 
green, the beautiful symbol of hope for their souls — 
the resting-place for all! — for each soul is being un- 
folded, and all may feel that the rock of ages is more 
firm for them, than the throne which the mighty and 
high-souled monarchs of earth have aspired to in their 
uplifted majesty. And the light will level the world, 
as with the hand of the angel of death, when he 
cometh and lays all low alike. I say the light shall 
level the people of the world ; the monarch will be but 
the man, and the man will be a man more than ever 
before : and woman shall become a strong and mighty 
instrument in the glorious work. 



42 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

[Some remark was here made by one of the circle 
implying that in her efforts for her country she must 
have been inspired.] 

And the spirit said : — It was inspiration. It was a 
host of spirits which loved my country that inspired 
me, and I did not repel them. My soul saw the 
heaven prepared for the lover of truth and justice, and 
has felt the heaven which acting — taking our lives in 
our hands, and going forth to do our Father's work — 
has raised me to also ; which has filled my soul with 
holy joy, and has shown me the hosts who aided me 
while carrying out the design which advanced my 
country one step in her upward destiny. 

The earthly tabernacles erected for the worship of 
the Most High shall be deserted, or looked upon as 
places of the terror and darkness which have for cen- 
turies ruled the mind of humanity, through the force 
of dry and unsatisfactory laws, given forth as the man- 
dates of the glorious Being whose only law is love, 
whose only mandate is peace. And each heart shall 
erect within itself a tabernacle, an altar, whose incense 
shall reach the pure throne of light, and return with 
an odor more sweet than the breath of flowers in their 
first dawn of beauty. "When the structures erected by 
the hands of man are less sought, and the inward tem- 
ple of the soul shall rise up and shine forth in the 
splendor of its natural beauty, then dark and gloomy 
indeed will seem the past, and glorious will all feel the 
present, unfolding to every heart new fountains of light 
aiid life everlasting. 

Oh ! the time is approaching when the men of earth 
shall feel how closely their interests, their immortal in- 



A PIOTUEE OF THE FTJTTJEE. 43 

terests, are interwoven witli the chain which reaches 
between the earth and skies. And the links of that 
chain shall be so commingled as to draw down the 
spirits of the great in good, the great in wisdom, and 
the mighty in truth, who have long since passed away, 
ripened in knowledge, purified in love, elevated in 
their progression in the eternal spheres of light, and 
now descending to fulfill their mission on earth. 

Think not the germ of immortal flowers has ceased 
to act on their native ground — their home of clay. 
That love of home, of earth, of country, which at- 
tracts it, shall and will draw, and is drawing back 
those purely unfolded spirits, who are now coming 
with a power whose resistless course shall be lighted 
with the beautiful images of the present dawn, and 
will show the gloom and darkness of the past in 
all its huge and ungainly deformity. 

Will not the mind revolt from that which is so dark 
and repelling ? and shall not men turn away from it, 
and open wide their hearts to enjoy the beautiful fu- 
ture spread out before them? — not as a dream, but as 
a glorious angel of life and love, who shall enter every 
heart and gladden every homestead, and shall so act, 
bo cast its golden fetters around, as to bring the vast 
family of mankind within its gladsome embrace. 

Is the picture too fair ? Does it seem exaggerated 
to your view ? Not so does it appear to spirits ; but 
the colors are golden, the tints are azure. Oh ! how 
they are blending and shooting forth in all directions 
in the bright firmament of joy, which speaks in more 
than mortal volumes of the infinite love and majesty 
of the Most High God. 



44 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CIIAPTEE VIII. 

MARGARET FULLER. 

The following was given by Margaret Fuller (Countess Ossoli), December 5, 1852. 

This privilege of conversing with earthly friends, I 
have long desired'to enjoy, that I might communicate a 
few of the spiritual experiences which have occurred to 
me since my departure from the flesh. My sojourn in 
your sphere seems now as an indistinct dream, in com- 
parison with the real life which I now enjoy. And I 
regard the raging of the elements which freed my dear- 
est kindred and myself from our earthly bodies, as the 
means of opening to us the portals of immortality. And 
we beheld that we were born again — born out of the 
flesh into the spirit. How surprised and overjoyed was 
I, when I saw my new condition. The change was so 
sudden — so glorious — from mortality to immortality — 
that at first I was unable to comprehend it. From the 
dark waves of the ocean, cold, and overcome with 
fatigue and terror, I emerged into a sphere of beauty 
and loveliness. How differently every tiling appeared ! 
What an air of calmness and repose surrounded me ! 
How transparent and pure seemed the sky of living 
blue ! And how delightfully I inhaled the pure, life- 
giving atmosphere ! A dimming mist seemed to have 
fallen from my eyes, so calm and so beautiful in their 



MARGARET FULLER. 45 

perfection were all things which inet my view. And 
then kind and loving friends approached me, with gen- 
tle words and sweet affection ; and, oh, I said within 
my soul, surely Heaven is more truly the reality of 
loveliness than it was ever conceived to be on earth 
by the most loving hearts! Already are my highest 
earthly impressions of beauty and happiness more than 
realized. And I now see that my most elevated ideas 
of truth and immortality were but faint reflections of 
celestial light from the thoughts of angels ; and as my 
aspirations for spiritual life reached the minds in the 
purer spheres, so was I enabled now and then to drink 
at the fountain of heavenly truth. It is owing to the 
influence of angels that men sometimes give forth 
thoughts which seem to shine with the light of heaven, 
and to breathe of the harmony in the spheres of im- 
mortality ; and which from their purity, men say are 
the words of inspiration. And truly it is inspiration, 
from the world of light. It comes to earth borne by 
loving spirits, and speaks in gentle whispers of immor- 
tal joys. And could earth's inhabitants but realize 
how ardently these children of light, whose hearts are 
attuned to love by their Father's smile, seek to impress 
them with thoughts of wisdom from the spheres of 
melody, with what attention would they listen, and with 
what open hearts would they receive the radiant be- 
ings : they would seek for the inspiration of those 
spirits who have cast off the darkness which belongs to 
the mortal sphere, and who have become expanded by 
the light of wisdom, and freighted with the holiness of 
love. The winds of adversity which passed over their 
souls while on earth, but purified and chastened them, 



46 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

and rendered them more sensitive to the enjoyment of 
never-ending happiness. And having advanced into a 
knowledge of the harmonious laws which govern their 
abodes, they forget not their friends on earth ; but 
with strengthened affection and exalted wisdom, they 
respond to the attraction of love which connects the 
two spheres, and aspiring men receive the influx of pure 
spirituality. Could the children of earth but look be- 
yond the range of mortal vision, they would see these 
angel-friends surrounding them, sympathizing with them 
in woe, and rejoicing in their happiness, and dispensing 
blessings of kindness and love. 

But, shall I speak to you of that which is gloomy 
and sad ? Oh, yes ! I feel it to be my duty. Do you 
see those people of the world who are led by no higher 
law than that of selfishness ; who have no purer de- 
sires than those which are engendered by their own 
dark passions and inconsistent lives ; who soar not 
above their own sensuous thoughts ; but who are ever 
seeking happiness in that which brings naught but 
misery ? See how this degrading condition is crushing 
them ; how it increases the hardships of the poverty- 
stricken, causing them to expend their whole energies 
in incessant toil for food : how the rich — the well-fed 
son of mammon, of luxury, and ease — from his sensual 
promptings sullies the purity of helpless innocence, and 
heaps misery upon the dependent; when, if his mind 
had been rightly directed, he would have spent his gold 
in filling the mouths of the hungry, and lifting the 
daughters of degradation from their woe-stricken state. 
And behold the little human waifs and strays of so- 
ciety, who wander unnoticed through your thorough- 



MAKGAKET FULLEK. 47 

fares. Tiny, but immortal souls, do they not need 
earthly guardians to guide them in the ways of virtue, 
and turn their young hearts from the allurements of 
sin ? The fathers which nature gave them have proved 
unworthy of their trust, and need — God help them !— 
teachers themselves. 

Oh, when I gaze abroad — if it were only upon your 
great city — how much vanity and injustice do I be- 
hold ! I see your magnificent buildings richly adorned 
with all that wealth and luxury can bestow, dedicated 
as temples of worship — of worship ! — of forms of wor- 
ship ! As though the incense of your hearts would 
ascend sweeter through the arched dome ! or the serv- 
ice be more acceptable, because performed in a costly 
edifice ! God looketh not to the works of thy hand, 
O man ! for worship. lie asks thee not to build tem- 
ples of beauty, which please the eye ; but he asks of 
thee a sincere heart — for prayers sent forth from the 
inner sanctuary of the soul. And let thine offerings 
of gold, and silver, and precious stones, be made to 
God, by dispensing them to thy needy brethren. And 
the anthems of joy which these shall cause to ascend 
from their grateful hearts, will be more sweet to him 
than the softest music which proceeds from a thousand 
instruments of human skill. 

How sadly my spirit looks back upon the place it 
once inhabited, to see so much that is wrong, when so 
little would make it one glorious right. Would that 
men w T ould join their hands together, and with united 
hearts say — let us assist our brother from the light that 
w r e have received ; let us lighten his overburdened soul 
of its care and sorrow, by relieving his physical w^ants 



48 THE FUTUKE LIFE. 

and enlightening his mind ; and thus raise him from a 
level with the brute to the plane where something more 
is required than mere animal food, or sensual gratifica- 
tion in any form. Let us help him to repel those dark 
spirits, which his low and undeveloped nature attracts 
to be his companions. Let us show him that much 
that is dark and repulsive in himself, is rendered still 
more so by the influences which are in affinity with him. 
Nay, start not ! It is true : for, as like attracts like, 
and darkness loves darkness the best, so, in like man- 
ner, ignorant, unhappy spirits linger around the haunts 
of vice and wretchedness, and often assist men in their 
dark deeds of sin. And these influences men call the 
Devil. They attribute ail to one individual fiend, who 
is made omnipotent ; forgetting that when man gives 
way to all that is degrading and debasing in his nature, 
obeying only his animal instincts, and shutting out the 
pure and good, he can be called by no other name than 
evil. But when the lowest among you shall have his 
higher faculties developed, and his intellectual powers 
expanded by elevated knowledge, he will shine in all 
the beauty of manhood : and will not go down to the 
grave in his sin and degradation, to give the w^orld oc- 
casion to say he is a sinner and eternally lost. None 
need consider that he must enter the spirit-world to 
suffer the torments of hell, or to taste the joys of heaven. 
The knowledge of rtian's own debasement will bring 
punishment, even in the flesh ; and the consciousness 
of progress in truth and goodness and the participation 
of their blessings, is the foretaste of heaven on earth. 
There is no further hell for him who is engaged in well- 
doing ; but his pathway leads gradually and beautifully 



MAKGA.KET FULLER. 49 

upward into the brightness of the Heavenly Father's 
smile, which illuminates the countenances of his pro- 
gressing children, and reveals their way into the higher 
spheres. 

Softly and sweetly now, are many good spirits breath- 
ing heavenly words into mortal hearts. Voices that 
have long since passed from earth are returning on a 
mission of love. Do not repel their gentle advances ; 
for they come to benefit your race. They come -as 
brothers and sisters ; and though they have often been 
denied a reception, the time is at hand when their voices 
must be heard, throughout the length and breadth of 
the land — when they will speak in trumpet-tones of the 
errors and forms which ye have so deeply cherished. 
And all that is truthful and beautiful shall shine forth 
in undimmed purity, and that which is obscure shall be 
made plain. And all shall ultimately experience the 
benefits and joys of communion with the heavenly 
spheres. It shall be food alike for all men ; for none 
will reject it, because of its healthful and life-giving 
influences. And as I look to earth again, from my 
spirit-home, I truly rejoice to see the good work pro- 
gressing ; and am happy to know that as a spirit who 
has inhabited the earthlv sphere. I can come back and 
contribute my mite toward the great work of human 
re d em p ti on . Makg abet Fullee . 

3 



50 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTEE IX. 

REASONABLE WORDS. 

Given by Thomas Paine, December 17, 1352. 

My errand here this evening is to speak a few reason- 
able words upon the subject which is exciting so much 
attention, and calling into action the reasoning pow- 
ers of many minds. It is greatly to be regretted that 
men have not hitherto used this gift (reason) to as great 
an extent as they might have clone in regard to this 
subject, which, above all others, demands a clear and 
unflinching scrutiny. But it has ever been the case 
with the many, to either hoot at that which they could 
not understand, or put it from their minds and leave 
their neighbors to search into the depths of the myste- 
ries for them ; and when they have failed to elucidate 
the problem, it has been laid aside as one of the numer- 
ous wonders of the age. And the inquirers have satis- 
fied themselves with the old savins: that, " time will 
unfold all things." But mind may have much to do 
with the time, as well as the things which are to be re- 
vealed. For if men were but conscious of the mighty 
thoughts which are capable of being discovered within 
themselves, they would be ready to receive the book of 
revelation to their own hearts and understanding at 
the present time, nor wish to tarry for the future. If 



REASONABLE WOKDS. 51 

they would but rouse up out of their lethargy, and ask 
for new light and revealed wisdom from the spirit- 
world, they would not receive a stone instead of a loaf. 
Let men look back upon their past lives and experience 
in a spiritual point of view ; and in so doing, let them 
ask themselves to how great an extent their percep- 
tions of spiritual enjoyment have been opened or made 
brighter and stronger in all those delightful moments 
of which they have been conscious, and as a reason 
they will assign it to the presence of God — the love of 
God shed abroad in their hearts. And after making 
this declaration of feeling the presence of the Most 
High, or his angels of light, when you speak of spirits 
communing with them they start back with affright, 
and gaze at you with looks of mistrust and suspicion, 
and almost think you are profane in so speaking. 

And now which would be most natural to suppose, 
that mortals experience the real presence of their 
Maker, or to suppose that some bright and joyful spirit 
came near them, whose being glowed with the heavenly 
warmth it received from the shining atmosphere which 
it inhabited in the pure and unclouded light of heaven, 
where it felt the serene happiness which emanated from 
the Father's smile, and that it drew near as a messen- 
ger of love when the heart was open to receive the ce- 
lestial visitor ? And yet men deny the presence of their 
spirit-friends, while they are willing to believe in the 
presence of God overshadowing .their being while com- 
muning with their own hearts and tasting of the nectar 
which flows from regions of immortal light, And when 
spirits return and make their presence known by the 
demonstrations which they are able to give, or which 



52 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

they are obliged to make, owing to the ignorance of 
your minds in regard to the natural laws which govern 
the conditions of the modes in use, and which are so 
slightly known as to be in a state of infancy, in many 
cases they naturally appeal to the lower or more ma- 
terial senses of the beholder ; since many refuse to 
believe a truth, be it ever so beautiful, unless it is pal- 
pably demonstrated to their outer senses, so that they 
may behold with their eyes, hear with their ears, and 
toucli with their hands. Then, having been so satisfied, 
men are willing to look inwardly for something purer, 
more refined, and more spiritual than the grosser mani- 
festations. 

And when men first seek to know how these things 
may be so, they are disappointed, and say, " If our 
friends in heaven are happy — if it is the pure and 
lovely abode which w r e have ever believed it to be — we 
can not conceive that they will return, and through 
these ridiculous and foolish-appearing modes, make 
their presence known. We expected our friends, if they 
could approach us, to come in a different manner, and 
appeal to our higher and better sense — to impress us 
with the truth of their return from that happy abode 
which we believe they inhabit — not coming to speak 
through strangers and all manner of people, of whom 
we know nothing. Why can they not approach us y if 
they are what they purport to be, and allow us to 
judge for ourselves, and by ourselves, of the reality." 
And thus many minds reason — willing to believe it 
may be so, and yet afraid to think it so — and saying, 
did it proceed from any high and elevated source, such 
as we have been accustomed to look to for spiritual 



REASONABLE WORDS. 53 

food, we should not scruple to believe it ; but the man- 
ner offends our sense of dignity, in appealing to oui 
intellects through the weak and ignorant persons of 
the world. 

Again, if these are spiritual communings, as they 
purport to be, why have we not received them sooner ? 
— why have not the men whose minds have for years 
been directed to the beauties of the higher spheres, dis- 
covered this mode before ? — they whose pure minds and 
lives would lead us to think that they were the proper 
recipients of such a boon of heaven ? Are the mighty 
and expanded intellects of our wisest and most en- 
lightened men to be slighted, and thought of no value 
in this development ? — why have they failed to discover 
this mighty thing sooner ? Andonany more such ques- 
tions men are constantly asking themselves and each 
other. But the reasons are simple, and the questions 
easily answered. 

The world has ever, from the first intellectual devel- 
opments in man, been progressing from the grosser and 
material form, to the finer and more spiritual senses of 
the soul. It has ever been the aim of men to reach 
higher than the plane upon which they stood. And 
the arts and sciences will show to how great an extent 
the outer development has acted upon the outer state 
of progression ; and the inner state, or progression of 
the soul, has much depended upon the physical forma- 
tion of individuals. In some it has been highly devel- 
oped, and in some it has been completely absorbed by 
the outward or animal faculties, which engrossed the 
material sense. Thus has the race continued to change 
from the grosser to the finer as their spiritual faculties 



54 THE FUTUKE LIFE. 

have been developed and enlarged. And where the 
spiritual development has been greater, it has taken its 
tone from by-gone ages which have left their image 
stamped upon the monuments of time ; and these have 
been searched into and reflected upon as the immuta- 
ble laws of the Ruler of the universe. And men of dif- 
ferently unfolded minds have left their impress also upon 
their teachings, which they have given to the world, as 
an outbirth of the spiritual development to which they 
have attained. 

Thus men have lived and labored, and all have given 
more or less new light to the race. Some have been de- 
veloped to such a degree of spirituality as to cause them 
to be persecuted, and the world has said they were mad, 
merely because their minds had soared a little higher 
into the regions of spiritual light than those who had 
been content to plod along in the beaten path. Bu' 



h 



there have ever been some who were at all times aware 
of the presence of an unseen guardian or teacher, whose 
directing hand has led them higher up, or opened to 
their souls more beautiful fields for them to explore ; 
but were they to have spoken this truth to the w r orld, 
they would have been mocked, and so they kept it 
locked in their own breasts, as a treasure which they 
alone could feast on, without daring to let others par- 
take. And the pure and holy aspirations of men have 
ever attracted around them ministering spirits, who 
made them seem as men whose thoughts breathed in- 
spiration upon their hearers. 

But the mass of humanity — the common mind — has 
never yet been prepared to receive this thing as a truth ; 
they have never conceived of the beauty of spiritual 






REASONABLE WORDS. 55 

companionship for all and each, but they have looked 
up to others for spiritual instruction and depended upon 
their teachers as truthful mediums for spiritual food. 
And where so many teachers have been so differently 
and inharmoniously developed with respect to their 
reasoning faculties or education, or that which pertained 
to their phrenological structure, inharmony is more 
naturally produced than spirituality. 

To many thinking minds which, have been struck 
with the great inconsistency which was held forth and 
called the true religion, it has seemed such a heteroge- 
neous mass that they have become disgusted with the 
whole, and will be responsible to no teacher for their 
spiritual food. And now in looking abroad upon the 
many minds which have no sure compass to direct their 
course — no teacher whose food they can digest, I see 
that to them true spiritual teaching will be acceptable ; 
as it embraces in its wide-spread folds no sectarian dog- 
mas, or forms to live by, or creeds to think by, or 
minds to be measured by ; but presents a universal re- 
ligion, whose forms are so broad that they will embrace 
the whole human family, and w T hose creeds are so sim- 
ple that every heart may be made wise in the doctrines 
of love and good will to their fellow-man. 

It is not the few among you who shall become teachers 
of the people ; but the unfolding of Spiritualism shall 
make all teachers and all learners. All, however highly 
talented by Nature, or made brilliant by having their 
qualities drawn forth by culture, shall find that there 
is much to be learned above their most elevated im- 
aginings, even in this sphere of being. And men may 
not always plume themselves upon their superior knowl- 



56 THE FUTUEE LITK. 

edge or attainments above their fellow-men, for they 
shall be brought to see that their discernment, however 
profound it may have been, has not yet discovered the 
glories which are to be revealed on earth : not only to 
the learned and eloquent shall these things be made 
known, but to the unlearned and ignorant will the 
matchless wisdom and goodness of God to his children 
be made manifest. The world has arrived at a point 
when the mere thoughts or sentiments of men concern- 
ing the future will not satisfy ; and from reaching to 
the greatest point of human experience in spiritual 
matters, they must either progress to a higher elevation 
than they have ever yet attained, or else go back to the 
extreme of materialism— .asking for more than they 
have yet received — or refusing to be satisfied with that 
which has been sufficient for their forefathers. 

Would many speak the thoughts of their hearts aloud, 
they would tell you they had long been conscious of 
this reveaiment — that spirits have never ceased since 
their entrance into their immortal homes, to come back 
and assist in developing, and aiding in the work of 
progressing their friends who are still in the form. 
And when the means could be made use of without 
subjecting the persons in whose presence manifestations 
were made, to be called witches and possessors of evil 
spirits as in times gone by, spirits have availed them- 
selves of this mode, appealing to the outward senses of 
man, and so first through his material feelings opening 
wide a door whereby the cause and effect might be 
investigated. But because of the undignified manner 
in which this thing has been presented, it has been a 
stumbling-block to many, and will be to many more ; 



REASONABLE WOBD3. 57 

for the world shall yet see that it is not to the wise and 
learned of the clay alone that the power of God is made 
manifest, that it is not through the most highly de- 
veloped in worldly wisdom that he makes the com- 
mands of his will shine forth, but that the love which 
he bears to all shall be made known through the lowly 
as well as the mighty. And where words of command 
and fear are held forth to arrest the wanderer from the 
path of duty and fail in the desired effect, the gentle 
voice of affection and love breathed from a spirit will 
do more to call back the prodigal than all the terrors 
of the law. Love is a mighty instrument of power 
when wielded by a sympathizing heart. How vast is 
the good to be accomplished, and how many are the 
hearts which shall be reached through the love of their 
friends who are in the spirit-world ! — and the words 
which would otherwise fall cheerless upon the oppressed 
heart, when breathed by spirit-lips shall fall as gently 
as dew on the thirsty ground, bringing peace and hope 
to many who had refused to believe or hope for happi- 
ness beyond the grave. Therefore do not wonder at 
the coarseness or grossness, or seemingly undignified 
manifestations of spirit-presence, for the mode of com- 
municating between your sphere and ours is yet imper- 
fect — is yet in its infancy ; the dawn is only approach- 
ing, but the day is opening, and we shall yet behold it 
in its full glory. Spirits are but the mortals who one 
day inhabited your sphere, and have only put off the 
covering which belongs to your sphere and put on 
another ; therefore do not expect perfection for this or 
that communication. Some who have long dwelt in 
the boundless arcana of never-fading wisdom and of 



58 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

ever-unfolding joy and beauty, are but preparing the 
way to approach your sphere; and those spirits who 
more nearly approach your own plane of development, 
are those who can come to you first, and the law of 
love will naturally first attract them to those whose 
hearts are opened to receive their affectionate greetings. 
You complain of contradictions, and imperfections, 
and untruthfulness in this new mode of teaching ; but 
were your different modes of teaching presented to your 
view in all their deformities, you would turn from them 
and be content to wait patiently for the full growth 
and development of that which has only begun. Your 
mediums are imperfect, you say ; and your spiritual 
teachers whom you have listened to from year to year 
are also imperfect, I say. You say that their minds 
color the communications ; and I ask you where under 
heaven is the man who speaks on any subject whose 
mind does not color the communication ? Are not 
your books of ancient records colored- with divers colors 
of divers minds ? and are not the messages which you 
receive, whether from books or from men, colored by 
the source from which they are received by you ? You 
should bear in mind that those who communicate with 
you are but progressing as you are in the elucidation 
of new truths, and that however anxious they may be 
to converse with you, they can not express to you every 
thing which they would, because you are not advanced 
enough in this path to receive it. Paine. 



INTERVIEW WITH THE POET POLLOCK. 59 



CHAPTER X. 

INTERVIEW WITH THE POET POLLOCK, 

2\EvV Yoek, September 15, 1S52. 

I went this afternoon to Mr. Sweet's, in order to have 
Mrs. Hemans finish, her vision, but the conditions were 
such that she could not affect the medium sufficiently 
to do so. 

While we were waiting in expectation that she might 
yet succeed, I took up a copy of Pollock's u Course of 
Time," which Governor Tallmadgehad presented to Mrs. 
Sweet, and began reading aloud some passages from it. 
I expressed my admiration of the work, saying that the 
world did not yet appreciate it as it deserved. During 
my reading the wish was expressed that we might com- 
mune with the author some time or another, but we 
did not expect to do it at that time. In a little while 
we perceived the medium to be affected as by the pres- 
ence of a new spirit (for we can always tell whether it 
is one who has before spoken through her or not). I 
continued my reading until lie obtained complete pos- 
session of her. 

His amazement was very apparent. He could not 
realize that lie was again tenanting a mortal form and 
using organs of flesh. He felt of himself — he looked 
around the room — lie gazed upon us. He attempted to 



60 THE FUTUKE LIFE. 

walk, and in various ways demonstrated to ns how novel 
was his position to him, and how difficult it was for him 
to realize where he was and what he was attempting. 

At length he spoke : — 

" My name is Robert Pollock. I can not as yet sup- 
pose it possible that I am again really in a mortal body. 
I feel bewildered. 

" The news reached me in my home that I was 
wanted on earth, that I was wished for. A fair female 
spirit announced the tidings in tones of joy. She smiled 
as she broke the news with a smile of ineffable sweet- 
ness, and said, ' Come, Robert, they have arrived at the 
point of wishing for thee. I believe you thought you 
w,ere forgotten on earth ; but you must be up and doing. 
Tou will be needed there again.' 

" I prepared to obey the summons, and with some 
difficulty have presented myself before you." 

I inquired if he had ever before this, since his de- 
parture, conversed with any in the flesh? 

He answered : — 

" When I have seen a free thought struggling for 
utterance in a soul striving to be free, I have striven to 
assist by lighting the passage, that it might escape un- 
chained. 

"How -I have longed to find some source by which 
I might disabuse the mind of many errors by which I 
myself have been led astray ; that is, my mind has been 
warped by the unconscious power they cast around me. 
But I find a great revolution is going on among spirits 
as well as men. They tell me intercourse is being 
opened in many different avenues of outlet. They say 
ilie time is coming when spirits and men may converse 



INTERVIEW WITH THE POET POLLOCK. 61 

as freely together as though they were still walking on 
earth as of yore ; and they say the rising generation is 
to he instructed fully in this mode of communication. 
They say that calling ' mighty spirits as from the vasty 
deep' of time, shall be no more only in imagination, 
but in reality shall they sit down and snp with us to 
our heart's content. 

" How very astonishing! How inconceivably sub- 
lime it seems to me ! Had such a thing been known 
when I existed, it would have rent asunder the strong 
battlements which were then erected to bigotry and 
dedicated to superstition. And if in my work you find 
a free or chainless thought, think not it was the work 
of my benigiited mind, but conceive of a bright array 
of friends, congenial minds long before departed to the 
world of spirits, and watch the rays of light which dart 
as they encircle me, and light upon my soul as though 
is uplifting its head and struggling for the utter- 
ance of inspiration. How gladly have I greeted those 
friends whom I have since met within my better exist- 
j ! " 

You mean, I inquired, those friends who thus inspired 
you ? 

"Yes. 

" How plainly can I now perceive with what power 
and might spirits who have long since departed in body, 
but have lived in name, may approach to rectify what 
may have been errors ; and with their better light, 
their clearer views, and more sure experience, may now 
approach and benefit the world more greatly than they 
ever have done before. • 

" "What a vast object ! What a mighty aim ! What 



62 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

a magnificent fulfillment of long prophecy and fore- 
boding ! 

u My first introduction to you may seem a very dry 
one, void of interest ; my second visit may prove more 
interesting; my third and subsequent ones, pregnant 
of much benefit to us all — to me as well as to you. 

" In coming back again to this sphere, after an ab- 
sence, I have much to learn of the existing state of 
society and men's minds, and my labors must be directed 
accordingly. 

" Many kind thanks for this opportunity." 

Mrs. Sweet asked if he could not through her give 
utterance to poetry like that which she had been read- 
ing of his ? 

He answered : — 

" When I shall learn how to use your mind to con- 
vey my ideas, you shall speak them for me." 

I inquired if he had been aware of the existence of 
this spiritual intercourse before he had been called on 
to-day. 

He answered : — 

" So great ! so unexpected a privilege ! It is such a 
miracle ! Yes ; I had heard of it as a marvelous thing 
that was taking place ; but I had no idea I should be 
called on so soon. This afternoon this person was wish- 
ing that my spirit would come, She was gazing at my 
likeness in the work which contained it, and wishing a 
spirit would bear a message to me, if such a thing could 
be possible ; and she looked at my likeness until she 
thought it smiled. Well, that spirit — it was Mrs. He- 
mans — bore me tke news. Why, I was delighted ! 
And when your second wish came, I answered the call, 



INTERVIEW WITH THE POET POLLOCK!. 63 

and am here. And yet I ask myself, can it be possible ? 
It is so. It must be. Others, my familiar friends, are 
around me here, and still I am gazing on mortals with 
mortal eyes ! " 

I asked him if the familiar friends who were with 
him in his spirit-home had accompanied him here, and 
were now with him? 

He answered : — * 

" Yes. Each must bring his familiar friends, con- 
genial spirits, to assist. I will come again when you 
wish me." 

Then he shook hands with us at parting, as he had 
done at the beginning, and so the interview ended. 

His deportment throughout was characterized by 
great calmness, gentleness, and humility. His joy and 
wonder were evidently very great, yet expressed with 
remarkable moderation and calmness. His subdued 
manner was inexpressibly touching. 

J. "W. Edmonds. 



64 THE FUTUBE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XL 



NEW DE SISES, 



Keceived through Mrs. S., August 10, 1S52, purporting to be from Henry Clay. 

It is with feelings of thankfulness that I have again 
found an opportunity of speaking through a medium. 
It seems to be the wish which is ever uppermost in 
my mind to come back to earth, and mingle again in 
the scenes in which I took so active a part, but not 
with the same desire that I then had to participate in 
the hopes or fears which sway the minds of those who 
can not see beyond the present sphere of existence. 

But it is my desire to make myself know?.:, if possi- 
ble, to those with whom I have walked the ^.own-hill 
path of life. And it is my aim, when I sL.*il succeed 
in so doing, to open their minds to the fr nth. of this 
incalculable and momentous manifestation, to them 
unknown. 

I foresee, in so doing, the light of wisdom to rule 
and govern a nation that is striving to rise into liberty 
as on the wings of an eagle, and how absolutely neces- 
sary and all-important is it that the minds of the 
rulers of the land should be iiiled with the visdom 
which shall enable them to rule with a justice which 
shall diffuse its influence with the knowledge oi truth 



NEW DE3IEE3. 65 

And the truth, when it shall reach the minds of the 
people, with the power which only truth can approach, 
will open their minds to the enjoyment of this glorious 
knowledge, which will lead to the happiness of the 

ople, to the nation's lasting good. 
When this young eaglet, whose aspiring wings are 
spread to all nations and climes, shall become stronger 
in her strength, and more powerful in her power — and, 
thank God ! this power shall yet be felt in the utter- 
most parts of the earth — the cry shall be to the people. 
Strengthen ye my loved, ones with the strength of the 
truth which is strengthening ye. 

Oh, how lovely the light ! how palely beautiful the 
beams which are darting hither and thither around. 
And it falls there, and it falls here, and it takes root, 
and the root takes strength and is beginning to flourish, . 
But ah ! the young saplings are yet tender. The winds 
of ridicule and calumny blow roughly over their head. 
It may break. It may rudely handle them in their 
tender youth. But oh ! it will not blast them. The 
young trees shall lift their heads and become as oaks, 
which, amid the tempests, stand unmoved. 

And I would say to the weak ones, Oh ! be strong in 
your faith and trust in God ; for this glorious work 
is advancing slowly, but surely and steadily. And as 
an army whose ranks are feeble at first, it shall increase 
in strength, and beauty, and might, and majesty, until 
it shall overpower the hearts of the people, not with 
the force of power, but with the power of love. 

Already in my short journey I can perceive how 
great the happiness and welfare of the nation is to be 
promoted by a knowledge of the truth, when they shall 



66 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

reap the benefit of the communion of spirits from the 
highest to the lowest in the land. 

Oh ! how great, how earnest is the desire of spirits 
to make their presence known ! And through that 
influence the hearts of men shall grow weak in their 
desire to commit crime, and to wrong their fellow-man. 
Through that influence the weak and oppressed shall 
be raised from the dust, and placed on the level plain 
of Humanity ; which the power of God willed all 
human beings to enjoy, but which the perverted will 
of man, whose conscience has become deaf to the voice 
of nature's God, has down-trodden and oppressed when 
circumstances have given him authority over them. 

But the voice of freedom from the thralldom of mind 
and body shall ere long be heard over the land, and 
minds shall rise strong in the knowledge which God 
has given them, and teach to other minds how dark 
the gloom which sectarianism, and superstition, and 
unbelief, and skepticism, have cast around them. 
And I say their fetters shall be broken as the light 
shall spread onward. 

As I contemplate this work, which is gradually 
becoming unfolded, I thank God in my inmost heart 
that I have been permitted to soar above this land of 
shadows, and darkness, and dimness, and whose honors 
and glories flee away as shadows from our grasp, and 
leave us toiling for we know not what. 

I now stand on the mount of Hope, whose strength 
upholdeth me, and whose light becomes stronger and 
brighter, nor vanisheth as -the objects are nearer. But 
more lovely becomes this lovely light the nearer I ap- 
proach it, through the goodness of God and the aid of 



NEW DESIRES. 67 

spirits made perfect, who dwell in the presence of his 
smile, and who do their Father's will where life is un- 
ceasing, joy is never-ending, and eternity is eternal. 



68 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XII. 



JOHN 0. CALHOUN 



September 12, 1S52. 

Cihcle met this evening. N. P. Tallmadge present by invitation. 
Mrs. Sweet was soon influenced by a spirit purporting to be John C. 
Calhoun.- Judge Edmonds reported his speech, which was as follows : — 

This is a novel situation for me, one which. I can 
scarcely yet realize myself. It is, nevertheless, a 
mighty and overwhelming reality to me as well as to 
you, my friends, who can feel it to be such. I have 
gladly availed myself of this privilege this evening in 
your midst, because I can see here those with whom I 
had relations while in the form. 

My object in coming is to me a very great one, and, 
God knows, I wish it was so to the world at large. I 
wish, I desire, I pray most fervently that we might 
feel how great the responsibility that is resting on each 
one who has heard the revelations of life and truth, to 
spread the echo, to spread the circle of sound, of 
thought, of energy, of ambition, to excel in the labors 
of the field, in which they are placed by being par- 
takers of this high and holy privilege — privilege un- 
fathomable, untold, unfelt, and unexpressed, ever chang- 
ing, ever beautifying, and becoming more lovely, more 
light, more holy, more serene in its outward paths. 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. 69 

My experience as a spirit is very limited in compari- 
son with some with whom yon have conversed, arid I 
deeply feel it to be so to-night. 

I deeply feel the barrenness of my soul, the lack of 
wisdom, the dread of ridicule, the loss of friends, the 
thought of enemies which debarred me from partici- 
pating, from being experienced, from a want of knowl- 
edge of this holy privilege. 

"Why, my friends, while in the form it was not a new 
thing to me. Oh, no ! it was a great reality, which my 
soul felt to be true, but dared not own. Have I not 
felt the presence of my friends around me in my seasons 
of despondency and doubt ? I believed it, but dared 
not say it. 

That u dared "—shall I tell you what it did to me? 
It shut out from my soul a revelation that might have 
gladdened it, and compels me now to nnbeam, when 
the covering of clay was thrown off. 

Ask him, and him, and him, if he has not felt the 
presence of loved friends departed ? a mother, a child, 
a wife, was near ? Yes, and the inmost heart, welling 
up from the depths of the inmost tenderness, will 
answer. 

It is the connecting link between the spirits of your 
sphere and ours ; the cord that draws the spirit back to 
earth and elevates the thought back to heaven. 

This may to many seem a small, worthless, and even 
absurd subject. The great and mighty of the earth 
despise small things; yet it is the small things, the 
trifles, which draw out the tenderest emotions of the 
heart. They swell and overflow. Have not the high 
and mighty those well-springs in their hearts? Yes; 



70 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

every heart will gush up, and through their afflictions 
roust the mighty ones be reached. 

Thank God ! it has been told me in my home, though 
you may not see it, that the time will arrive when 
earth's children will all be children of our Father, who 
is the God whom all nations adore in some form. 
Some adore him as the sun, as images, as nature. The 
simple hearts, and those in high places, the poor and 
the humble in heart, adore him — the afflicted and the 
downcast, and he comforts them. 

This intercourse is calculated to bring heaven and 
earth more closely together, and to make man feel his 
responsibility as man, to lift him up from his degrada- 
tion, and when you see this fully, you will not say the 
spirits' labor has been in vain. When the unfolding 
light of spiritual communication shall reach the hearts 
of the sons and daughters of earth, it will come with 
sweet humility, open their eyes, and show them wherein 
they err. It will set them to thinking ; and every heart 
thus set to thinking will feel, " Thou art the man." 

No one will be overlooked in the crowd. The great 
spirits will take cognizance of all, the high and the low. 

Some say, I'll believe when others do. If so, you 
lose much precious time by tarrying. Sometimes the 
laggard is caught in darkness ere he is aware. 

Then turning to Mr. Tallinadge, he said: — 

My object in coming to-night is principally to you, 
my friend, as I wish to whisper a word in your ear that 
you may be strengthened in your faith, you may be a 
medium to convey important truths to others as I am 
now to convey knowledge to you. This is with me yet 



JOHN C. CALHOUN". 71 

very limited ; but I do not live as one without hope. 
Far from it. The circumstances now surrounding me, 
are so different from those surrounding me while on 
earth, that my vision is more enlarged. It is not bound- 
ed by so small a compass as this city, this country, or 
this world, even in my little sphere. But the knowledge 
that is now opening to my view ! I can not conceive of 
its magnitude. The wisdom of God, the witness of his 
created worlds of power, of light, which is ever open- 
ing to my view ! if it came any faster it would over- 
whelm me; as my sphere of thought, of experience, as 
I said before, is very limited. Why, I can not give 
even the faintest conception, nor will I try, of the mag- 
nificent, ever-varying, and all-absorbing visions and 
realms which are continually breaking upon my enrap- 
tured eye. 

How very dim life on earth seems to me now ! I look 
upon it as a troubled dream, wherein were indeed some 
bright spots, some kind feelings shed around my path 
to make it brighter. I was but the germ placed in a 
casket of clay, whose inner unfoldings, whose heaven- 
sent aspirations, should have begun to develop them- 
selves sooner while placed there. 

Of every man shall be required a talent. Let each 
ask, have I one, and will the Lord require that talent 
of me ? Most assuredly, my friends. Do not hide it in 
the ground, but let it shine forth to warn your fellow- 
men. It was given to use — one may help another, and 
all mingle and combine together, and make up the great 
sun which giveth life on earth. 

Every created one has some germ of beauty to be 
expanded. All are not unfolded, because the present 



72 THE i'UTUKE LIFE. 

state of society forbids it. What beautiful spirits are 
hid below the superstition, ignorance, error, and poverty 
that surround you ! 

When will man feel that his fellow-man requires a 
talent at his hand ? As ye do it to these little ones, so 
ye do it unto me. 

You may think that all are not performing a work. 
All can not, through the force of circumstances. The 
work which enables the rich man to roll in luxury 
causes the sweat to pour from the poor man's brow. Is 
this right ? Is your society organized aright % Were 
labor so equalized that all might bear a part, each in 
his respective capacity, all might share in the benefits, 
and yet all be in their proper places, not to create con- 
fusion, or a vast revolution, or plan of socialism, but so 
dividing and diffusing that the wants of all should sup- 
ply the wants of all ; the works of all supply the works 
of all ; mind as well as labor. By so doing there would 
be no necessity for the poor beggar to wander through 
your streets, for the little stray waifs, the homeless ones, 
to be cast on the broad sands of iniquity. 

How the spirits grieve at the lowness of those who 
are made to grovel in the dust by the selfishness and 
rapacity of their fellows in humanity ! The humblest 
creature, however deformed or warped, is capable of 
being cultivated in its own sphere, and be made useful. 

Friends ! won't you work to bring this about 'i 
Won't you speak to those in high places ? It will 
begin as a drop and flow out and become a stream, and 
grow broader in the glad sunlight. 

The seed is not always sown on fallow ground. In 
some places it will yield fifty fold ; and if it yield only 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. 73 

one, will it not satisfy you that yon are improving your 
time ? 

Do yon not perceive, as you use your talent, it will 
increase ; that it confers more strength on the owner, 
as well as extends to others the benefits which you have 
so bountifully received ? 

Your privileges have been great indeed, and your 
responsiblity is the same. Do you not see how great 
your talent, and how much will be required of you ? 

You are entering on an era of great events, great de- 
velopments, great .revealments, great revelations. 

Will all, then, endeavor to be satisfied with the part 
that is given him ? All have a part to perform. Just 
as soon as you are prepared for it, just as soon as you 
can bear it, just so soon will that part be required of 
you to your utmost satisfaction. 

My friends, continue in your faith, and hope, and 
work, and I bid ye God speed. More I can not do. 
You are in better hands than me. 

4 



74. THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XIIL 

INTERVIEW WITH WEBSTER. 

Monday, Oct. 27, 1852. 

Last evening as I was writing in my library, Mr. and Mrs. Sweet 
were shown in. They had been impelled by the spirits to come over 
and see me ; and though they knew that I had the day before left town 
with the intention of being absent from town for several days, yet 
they were told by the spirits that I was home, so they came and 
found me. 

He was some time in getting control of the medium, and in the mean 
time, Mr. Sweet and another gentleman present made inquiries, from 
which they ascertained who it was, but I was silent. 

They got nothing more than an announcement of who he was, until 
they solicited me to ask some questions; and I inquired whether his 
coming to commune with us so soon was the result of his strong attach- 
ment to earthly things, or was in the performance of a duty, a mission 
with which he was charged ? 

After a while he said : — 

My friends, it affords me unspeakable pleasure to be 
so soon and so candidly received as a visitor from the 
country which I find is no longer an unknown one to 
many of yon. 

At this moment, friends, I realize my utter unworthi- 
ness of this blessing, this opportunity ; nor should I so 
soon have enjoyed it, were it not for the kindness of old 
friends whom I have met with, and who have taken me 



INTERVIEW WITH WEBSTEB. 75 

by the hand as a brother, and assisted me. Not only 
in one sense unworthy, but in a thousand other respects 
do I feel how undeserving I am of being permitted to 
make my presence known to those who know I had no 
sympathy for such dreamings or imaginings, as I con- 
ceived them to be while here. 

Heaven knows I am as thankful and as humble as any 
of God's creatures. I now truly see and feel my posi- 
tion in respect to my eternal welfare. Yes ; God gave 
me a massive intellect, the world said, but that intellect 
now appears to have been very narrow in its develop- 
ment in the wisdom which it now requires to be made 
acquainted with, in order that the qualities of mind 
which were so richly bestowed upon me while here on 
earth, may now become clear and unclouded in the con- 
clusions of spirituality, without which, were I Solomon 
himself, I could not attain to more than the most com- 
monplace mind on earth. 

It is not the material kind of wisdom which I now 
need to aid me in my new stage of development, I find ' 
I am what I believe you call an undeveloped individual 
in my new stage of existence. But, thank God, I see 
ample fields opening for my research, which I might 
have entered long ago, had I been so minded. 

It was a great, though not a grand mistake of mine 
not to seek the truth before, regarding this matter. 

In my day I sought out many truths, and many new 
truths to many minds ; but now I see that the most 
important truth was altogether overlooked. My soul 
felt with an overwhelming force the mighty sense, the 
infinite power of the Almighty in all his works. The 
grand and glorious hand of Nature imparted her di 



76 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

vine revelation ; but, friends, I never sought the voice 
which might touch my heart and receive an answer in 
the flesh. 

It is this I mourn for now. How clearly do I now 
perceive my short-comings ! But, thank God, my life 
has not been spent entirely in vain for my country or 
mankind. I speak not thus with a feeling of triumph, 
or boastingly, but with a feeling of regret that I had 
not more wisely directed my talents, and had not en- 
abled myself to let the glorious gifts of God in me shine 
forth in a purer, broader, and brighter light. 

As I look back on my past career, I see much to 
regret, and much to rejoice for. I see, at the present 
period in my country's history, peace and plenty, and 
the people as happy as they possibly could be, under 
the .present state of affairs. But since I have thrown 
off my mortal body, mj spirit has taken a bird ? s-eye 
view of the universe. O God ! how dark it seems even 
here ! [Here were evident signs of deep emotion.] 

It appears as though the minds which directed the 
people were undirected themselves in so many respects, 
where, had they done differently, a different state of 
things would now exist. But I have no right to com- 
plain. I did not see it while here, to so great an extent 
as I now see it. 

Oh, I see how very great the darkness of the leaders 
has been in respect to the wants of the people, and my 
own leanness in this respect stands before me as a with- 
ered tree. 

You wish to know my object in coming here to-night. 
It is easily told. You all know my former character. 
You can not possibly believe I can so soon become 



INTERVIEW WITH WEBSTER. 77 

spiritual-minded. Clouds of materialism, which dark- 
ened the finer elements of my mind, still cast their 
shadows around me : but I wish yon to understand that 
I realize what I might have been, what I am, and what 
I am to be. My life on earth was misspent, and my 
mission is to make the atonement for it. To be the 
Daniel Webster on earth and the Daniel Webster in 
heaven. You understand me? 

I confessed that I did not. 
He said: — 

My friend, my respected friend, you do not confess 
that yon think I can not be happy ! 

I am in a state to profit much and deeply by the ex- 
perience of many who have been here before me, and 
you will confess that I am the man that can do so. 

It will be my earnest wish to benefit my fellow-beings 
on earth. My sympathy is with them. I participate 
in their hopes and fears, and yon will not therefore be 
surprised at my desire again to return to earth. 

Here he paused, and it was intimated to us to ask him questions. 
We stated the great want we felt of practical instructions, whereby the 
minds of people could be reached easier than by general abstractions- 
and we wished he would give us a practical view of the change he had 
undergone. 

He answered : — 

I was first impressed with the vastness of the change 
I had undergone. The next was the boundless space 
that lay before me to explore ; and as mv eye traversed 
the immensity which surrounded me, I felt as but a 
speck in that immensity. 

The next was my meeting with my friends — the next 
the view of myself, and the character of the sphere 
where I mingled. Having become sufficiently enlight- 



78 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

ened on those subjects, and having my past life brought 
forth in bold relief before me, the question naturally 
arose, I will atone for all the wrongs I may have com- 
mitted, consciously or unconsciously, as far as shall lie 
within myself. 

That seems to be the first duty which is required of 
me in my new home ; to see myself in true colors, that 
the false colors may be stripped from around my ex- 
istence, and the true shine forth w r ith greater and native 
brilliancy. 

There was something in the manner in which this was delivered, 
that struck those of us who had heard him speak, as remarkably char- 
acteristic of him, and we gave utterance to the thought. 

He said : — 

How T happy I am. You do more than I would have 
done. You all believe it. 

Then, in answer to a question how far his prayer for forgiveness when 
dying had aided him afterward, he said: — 

My friend, in my short existence I find that sin must 
forgive itself by expiating itself in the mind. How 
naturally the former life, former faults, and former fol- 
lies all rise up before me and reproach me, and almost 
take the form of an avenging angel. If there is a hell ? 
it is when such thoughts reign supreme ; and if there is 
a heaven, it is the recollection of having performed the 
duty required of us by the Great First Cause, who gave 
us our talents to be used for the benefit of our fellow- 
men, and made us the machines to direct a the springs 
placed within our bodies. 

That is to be my greatness again. My mission will 
consist in reaching men in many different ways. Not 
in one, or two, or twenty ways will I perform the work 



INTERVIEW WITH WEBSTER. <9 

which I am beginning to learn merely the alphabet of. 
Yet, my friend, when I shall be permitted to come 
again, I can more clearly explain to you my position 
and my employments than I can at present. My ex- 
perience is but short in my newly found home. But I 
hope fervently, hopefully, deeply, trustingly, to be use- 
ful in every sense of the word, useful to my fellow-men 
and to myself. 

I see many means of intercommunication which are 
shortly to be opened, which, however, I could not ex- 
plain to you so that you would understand, and which 
I hardly understand myself It would be the blind 
leading the blind. 

The interview continued a good while longer. It was desultory. He 
spoke so rapidly I did not make the necessary memorandum. 
I mention a few incidents. 
Among other things, in answer to one of our questions, he said: — 

That at his departure he was unconscious for about 
fifteen minutes, during which time his spirit was leaving 
its former tenement, and mingling itself with its new 
atmosphere; he supposed that all experience that, in 
a greater or less degree, unless it might be those who 
were more spiritually developed, he believed we called 
it, than he was. 

He said, also, that he was introduced to us, and to this mode of com- 
munication, by Mr. Clay, that he had been round with him for two dav^, 
looking into and learning the process of intercourse. That this was 
the first of his communicating. 

He said it was not worth while to communicate this to his friends 
and family, for they would receive it as he had done, as an idle dream. 

I spoke to him of the difficulty of reaching men's minds with this 
new philosophy. 

He thought there wa? little or no difficulty about it. 



80 THE FUTCJSE LIFE. 

How happened it then, I inquired, that while this thing has been 
going on around you for four years or more, it never reached you? 

His reply was, that it now seemed all so natural and simple, that it 
seemed to him not difficult to make people understand it. Yet the 
whole thing was so new to him that he could not judge accurately. 
'•Have patience with me, friends, till I am able fully to realize my 
present position, and I will speak further with you on this subject. M 

He said he discovered there were enthusiastic spirits who had com- 
muned, who promised more than they could perform, yet who really 
thought they could perform as they promised, and these difficulties with 
the mediums gave rise to contradictions and inconsistencies. 

J. W. E. 



A SECOND VISIT. 81 



CHAPTER XIV. 



A SECOND VISIT. 



October 30, 1852. 
communication' given by Daniel Webster to Mr. and Mrs. S. this 
evening. In answer to a question about his mission, he said: — 

I see much good to be accomplished when I shall 
have sufficiently progressed in the sphere in which I 
am placed, to understand the laws which are requisite 
for the high and delightful mission of contributing the 
use of the talents with which I was blessed in enjoying 
the use of, and was permitted to see the character of 
the fruits which they bore while performing the duties 
of life's requirements while here. And I now recog- 
nize, in a full and fair vision spread out before my eyes, 
how greatly these talents may be developed in a spirit- 
ual point of view, which will still continue to make me 
useful to mankind. 

And, thank Heaven, no qualms of conscience, preju- 
dice, or principle shall act there as a barrier to obstruct 
the full flow of my soul's aspirations after goodness and 
wisdom, to surround me with the ennobling and beau- 
tifying principles which have lain deeply imbedded 
within my soul. 

In glancing over my past existence, I perceived many 
feelings, which lay buried within my being, were con- 

4* 



82 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

cealed from my view by the outward causes which were 
acting upon, and molded my mind, and left their im- 
press graven upon my public career in letters which 
time will not soon efface. 

I now find that the predominant feelings which were 
once called into action from my station in life, had the 
effect of deadening what would otherwise have lighted 
and radiated my mind to greater expansion than I could 
possibly have conceived while there, and thrown a genial 
influence of inward light upon my outward man, which 
would have made life seem as only the stage whereon 
to enact the duties assigned us by the infinite wisdom 
of our Maker. And then, having made our peace with 
God, through having made peace with our fellow-men, 
in benefiting them by the instructions which have been 
given us in their behalf, we should put on immortality 
as a garment of light, and be welcomed with a happy 
assurance, "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter 
thou into the joy of thy Father." 

I realize now how great that joy must be to a heart 
whose associations have ever been pure and unselfish, 
whose material structure has not so operated on and 
controlled their inward light, but that they have been 
able to realize the actual presence of the spirit of reve- 
lation within their inmost souls. And when called 
upon to change their place of habitation, have set out 
as upon a road w T hose banks w r ere lined with living 
flowers, and whose streams were immortal in. the light 
and transparency of their flow, and whose thoughts had 
realized (in more than dreams) the unfading and unfail- 
ing sources of happiness ever springing forth and en- 
rapturing the eye, and bathing the soul in the mellow T ed 



A SECOND VISIT. S3 

beauty of heavenly communion. Dreamy now seems 
the past compared with the fair realities of the present 
which have been presented to even me — me, who en- 
tered as a traveler that seeks an unknown country, and 
requires a map to guide him through the many different 
and dimly conceived localities which he may have heard 
of, as being some time to be explored, and leaning upon 
an all-ruling Power, but not remembering that the 
eternal life has more mysteries to be sought and found 
than the short, the transient one which we have known 
here the longest, but short when compared with the 
smallest part of that which we have in view. 

Had I a thousand tongues to tell the multitude of 
wonders, they should all be of the great and reforming 
in all its aspects, the good of my country, the good of 
mankind at large, through the exceedingly beautiful 
and natural laws which are bringing the world of 
reality and that which has been hitherto one of 
shadows together. 

My words fail to describe my feelings, when I at- 
tempt to portray the delight which I feel thrill through 
my soul, with a warm glow of happiness, in contem- 
plating the high destiny of the human race. I do not 
speak of that which is to come in centuries. I do not 
wish to carry my ideas out of your reach ; but I mean 
within a few short years which I can speak of, as 
knowing the meaning of what I say, having so lately 
been guided by the same measure of time myself. 

w *..* ■;»- •}£ -Jf -X* 

I feel that the high and beautiful wisdom of the Al- 
mighty God is indeed manifesting itself in a manner 
miraculous to spirits and astounding to mortals. And 



84: THE FUTURE LIFE. 

were I willing at this period of time to become a vision- 
ary rather than the practical man which I ever delighted 
to be, I could paint such pictures as would open the 
bowers of Eden, green and beautiful to your view, 
tanned by the wings of angels, soothed by the breath 
of love and hope — bright hope — harmonized by the 
all-pervading power of wisdom, which not only has 
worked, but is continually working wonders in the flesh 
and in the spirit. It would be a picture of peace and 
happiness, brought into operation by the co-operation 
of men and spirits^ which, through their combined ef- 
forts, will yet concentrate the forces of their powers, 
that their strength shall be felt through every nerve and 
fiber of the human mind. 

To me, who can now view r these things independent 
of mortal eyes, the prospect is indeed cheering. Pray 
Heaven that the eye of your understanding may be 
opened to realize here what I never appreciated in its 
stupendous might and majesty until I arrived there. 



ANOTHER INTERVIEW. 85 



CHAPTER XT. 



AX OTHER INTERVIEW. 

November 23, 1852. 

This evening the Circle of Hope met. General E. F. Bullard, of 
Waterford, and Miss Bishop were present as visitors. The communi- 
cations were through Mrs. S. as the medium, and were as follows : — 

Friends, I was called Daniel Webster while an in- 
habitant of your sphere. By thai name you will now 
recognize me as the soirit addressing you. 

1 must confess it is with feelings of delicacy that I 
approach your circle to take a part of your valuable 
time. But my opportunities of conversing with friends 
in this sphere, since my departure as an embodied form, 
have been few, and it is not that I expect to be able to 
impart much instruction to you as regards the higher 
and more beautiful plane of thought on whicli your 
minds are arriving, as it is to say how I am grateful 
and humiliated to find how true is the truth of this 
returning to earth, and how foolish is the blindness 
which makes men turn away their eyes and shut their 
hearts to the knowledge which speaks to the heart in a 
trumpet tone, or reaches them through the still small 
voice of conscience. 

My experience has been but of short duration, yet 
long enough to see and to feel how much of the true 



S6 THE FtJTUJSE LIFE. 

knowledge, which might govern and direct the human 
mind, for its temporal as well as spiritual welfare, I was 
utterly ignorant of. I now see how utterly incapable 
men are, with their present knowledge and past ex- 
perience, of advancing the welfare of the human race 
in the progression eternal w r hich might be, if better ac- 
quainted with the human and divine laws apparent 
around you. 

The laws w T hich men make are so different from na- 
ture's. I have been looking into the narrow platform 
of thoughts and fears which men are constantly erect- 
ing and constantly overthrowing, for the simple reason 
that the platform is not wide enough, and thus one scale 
outweighs the other. 

As I look abroad over the earth, over my own loved 
country, I see so many small circles — so many small 
platforms, and that they need a larger one to revolve 
around. 

I am astonished as I look around to see how very 
contracted my ideas were, yet I fondly imagined I took 
a flight like the eagle in her soarings to view the ex- 
tended map of mind. 

Friends, will you doubt me when I tell you I see a 
great and gradual change which will soon cover the 
face of the earth? I see the fires blazing up and 
breaking forth in different directions, and I see many 
and mighty spirits lighting these fires and feeding them 
— many great and mighty men who have passed away 
from the earth, coming in strength to help the work of 
the redemption of man. 

I feel I have a great part to take in this mighty revo- 
lution. It has begun, and is spreading and overwhelm- 






ANOTHER INTERVIEW. . 87 

ing, as the billows roll over the great face of the waters 
when lashed to fury by some unseen power. 

Oh, that I had begun my seeking sooner; that I had 
wisely improved the talent given me, and let it shine 
forth, for then it would have lightened my path up- 
ward to the mansions above. 

Mighty thoughts rush through my brain as I look 
abroad — too oreat for utterance now. I see that this 
work is to be a practical one. It is not to be performed 
by the writers or philosophers, the wise men or the 
poets of the day, but all, from the greatest to the lowest, 
are to assist and be instruments of utility, not as serv- 
ants, "but as heirs, as brothers, who will all alike enjoy 
the fruits of their labor. The young, the old, the mid 
die-aged, all are to assist. 

In looking back upon many of my friends who were 
familiar with me here, I see that before six months, or 
a year at furthest, shall elapse, many of them will have 
embraced and will proclaim this great truth, and I see 
some of them are to join me and assist me in more ways 
than one. I see many among my friends whose minds 
are awakened to the subject, but whose fears deter them 
from investigating, and I see many of the spirit-friends 
who are keeping their feelings alive. 

You think I ought to describe my spirit-home, and 
truly I would do so if it were in my power. Think of 
a life spent here mid the toil, and bustle, and busy 
thoughts of a nation, where the mind reached heaven 
but in glimpses, and the soul did not drink deeply of 
the inspiration around it. Imagine such a one taken to 
that country, and placed amid all that was new, and 
startling, and glorious ! It is a child in its first efforts 



88 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

to learn its first lesson. Picture my friends around me, 
telling me all that is new, and good, and beautiful, and 
how much I must learn, and forget, and work. Yes, 
work is no new word in the spirit-world. Every im- 
mortal soul is ever working, ever seeking for new light 
and new knowledge, and the more knowledge they ob- 
tained before leaving your sphere, the less they have to 
seek for in their initiation into the world of wonders. 

You speak of your statesmen's having left you, of 
your having none to fill their places. Do not think so. 
Greater than they will fill their places. Mightier than 
they shall speak to the nation, in language bringing 
flowers of truth for man to live by and to die by. To 
die ; the word will be banished from earth. It is but 
an exchange, a putting off the worn-out frame, and en- 
tering the new and beautiful spirit-covering which is 
prepared for us as we emerge into the world — not of 
shadows, but of bright realities. 

Your earth is but a speck when compared with the 
splendors and high glories which I see before my view, 
but which I have not reached, but see in the distance, 
and labor to reach. The veil is removed. The bright 
and beautiful country is in my view. As a fair land- 
scape it appears before me, and I as the wanderer, when 
picturing the joys of his far-off home, I am looking at 
it. This urges me on where I may behold the sun of 
righteousness in all its unclouded splendor. 

My ideas are imperfectly given, owing to the difficul- 
ties of communicating, and my want of knowledge of 
its laws. I have been anxious to speak here before, but 
have not always been able to impress my name. But 
I am improving, and hope soon to be able to impart 



AN0TEEH INTERVIEW. 89 

some things of utility, something practically to benefit 
those who take an interest in this good wcfrk. How I 
regret I did not begin sooner ! My feelings overcome 
me when I look on what I might have been. My 
language may not have appeared like that of Daniel 
Webster ; but I was anxious to begin, though I began 
as a child, for I know you will make good use of it, 
and it will be of much use to my surviving friends. 

After a pause, he said: — 

My old friend Mr. Clay desires to speak. 

And -.Ir. Clay said : — 

Friends, it is some time since I have had the pleasure 
to make myself known to you, though I have very often 
met with spirits who mingle around your circle. 

I have deeply rejoiced this evening at the efforts of 
my friend to give forth his ideas to you. He has suc- 
ceeded in some degree ; if imperfectly, you must make 
allowance, for there are circumstances which we can 
not always control. I am happy, most happy this 
evening, to come in company with my old friend, and 
it is nothing more nor less than a high degree of wis- 
dom that has called that spirit from the earth, and 
many others, for they shall, from their high abodes, 
become perfected, and give it back to earth. The 
minds which sway mankind are being moved, and 
those in the spirit-land must take their places. Dark- 
ness shall no longer cover the face of the earth. 

The men who conduct the affairs of the nation are 
about to become enlightened in a manner which shall 
compel them to throw aside old forms and emerge into 
the channel which this new revelation is opening to all. 



90 THE FUTURE LUTE. 

And it shall be felt in the public institutions, and in 
the schools, 'practically felt and practically acted on. 
It will give you new laws, new ideas to carry out, and 
show the rottenness, the uselessness of your falling 
laws, and make the path beautiful and plain and clear, 
so that even a child may tread it. 

Some say it will not reach all. That is a mistake. 
It will first reach the intelligent mind, because it is 
w^hat the intelligent mind requires. The mind which 
has had chains and land-marks has become weary of 
them, and this light shall shine on their souls and fill 
them with joy. 

This many have been expecting, but they little 
thought they were to receive it in so simple a way as 
the rappings. They who w r ould find out great truths 
must first find out its simplicity. 

Ere long you shall hear strange tales from across 
the seas. The spirits are laboring with untiring zeal 
to assist man in his mighty labors. You simply show 
him. the high privilege he may aspire to, the knowledge 
he may grasp, and then your duty is done. Place the 
means within his reach, and pass on to another. 

Slowly but steadily it is spreading, and gently, and in 
musical tones it comes ; yet to some it comes as an 
avenging voice of past misdeeds ; to some it comes 
lifting them up from sorrow ; to some who cease to 
look for happiness on earth, it opens new fountains of 
light, and lights up the darkness within. Some it shall 
haunt as a specter, and cause them to shrink from past 
misdeeds and present crimes. As though a thunder- 
bolt fell at their feet, they shall stand still and wonder. 
To some it has come as a beacon-light seen in the dis- 



ANOTHER INTERVIEW. 91 

tance, but never reached — sought in vain ; but now the 
windows open and the light enters. 

Thus will it affect different minds ; but all will be 
reached. Some may scoff, and sneer, and cry humbug. 
Yet there is a feeling awakened within their hearts. 
They feel that it is other than that. It takes no form 
save that of universal light, and love, and progression. 
It absorbs no one spot, but as a mist would envelop the 
world. 

All I can say this evening is, go on in your quiet, and 
beautiful, and soul-cheering work, and God and spirits 
will assist you. And what more assistance can you ask 
for? J. W. E. 



92 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XVI 

REFORMATION. 

Given August 22, 1852, and purporting to emanate from the spirit of N. P. 
Rogers. 

I wish to speak on the subject of the Reformation 
which is beginning and going on in your midst. My 
name is unknown to you as a spirit of any fame or 
pretensions, but my desire is, nevertheless, as great to 
contribute to the information, in regard to the objects 
of interest which now occupy the minds of men and 
spirits, as any whom you have conversed with. While 
you were reading a communication from me, through 
another medium, and desiring that you might have 
such a one given you, I was present — attracted by the 
strong desire on your part, and the open-heartedness 
with which you received what you considered the 
more beautiful part of it — and I have gladly embraced 
the opportunity of coming to speak a few thoughts 
upon the subject in hand. 

The question is often asked, " Shall I be a medium?" 
and the answer frequently is, " You will." 

And now let me inquire, what is your object in be- 
coming a medium ? Is it to gratify your own curiosity, 
or from a desire for knowledge and to benefit your 
friends, by making a proper use of the gift ? Or is it 
an idle wish, merely to be the vehicle through which 



REFORMATION. 93 

something startling may be conveyed to the world? 
Where so many minds are actuated by so many differ- 
ent motives, the means employed for developing their 
powers mast necessarily be widely different, and the 
modes of operation as diverse. And in this respect 
much depends upon the desires of those who are so 
anxious to become mediums. We should ever bear in 
mind that spirits, of all classes and gradations, are 
striving to make themselves known to the inhabitants 
of earth, and are putting forth all their powers to 
develop media. It is my earnest desire to bid all to be 
on their guard, as to how, in what manner, their minds 
shall attract, into close companionship with them, 
spirits whose presence will, either wisely or unwisely, 
direct them and others who may place confidence in 
their teaching — when that spirit shall so gain control 
as to prove its presence to the outward sense. Some, 
mayhap, do much mischief before their real character 
is discriminated. Weigh well ail teaching from all 
spirits, remembering that the experiences of spirits, in 
their spirit-home, are as unlike each other as the walks 
of individuals in this life are unlike. In minor points 
of doctrine, spirits, as well as men, differ from each other 
because their views are given from different planes of 

O J. 

development. This should not throw any off the track 
who are honestly seeking for the truth — and nothing 
but the truth. For while so much disparity exists in 
opinions here upon similar points, it w r ould not be good 
philosophy, or according to reason, to suppose that all 
spirits who have left this world — honest in their differ- 
ent opinions in relation to contested points — should at 
once outgrow them upon entering the spirit-world ; 



94 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

or come to entertain and give one opinion upon all 
subjects. 

Many spirits are but learning the way to see clearly 
through these mooted points and intricacies of doctrine, 
which, in the form, subjected them to so many endless 
and unprofitable discussions, and so much labor in vain, 
which they now see was quite unnecessary for their ad- 
vancement in the cause of redemption from sin. Sin 
being the cause of all the unhappiness and inharmony 
existing in society at large, the desires of all men 
should be pure and holy, and their labors be prompted 
by a desire to benefit the rising generation, that the 
minds of the young may grow up untrammeled by the 
fetters of bigotry, superstition, error, and prejudice, 
whose shadows have obscured the light which the un- 
seen power of God would cast around them. Ancient 
records, and musty superstitions, and worn-out theolo- 
gies, have cast, as it were, a veil between their minds 
and this free and joyous light. Their own minds 
wander in such dark labyrinths and unknown avenues, 
for this light, which they, themselves, have put farther 
from them, by making it seem an impossibility to find 
the holy light of God's truth. Many have been groping 
in the dark, and far away, seeking to fetch the light 
from a distance. But the genial sun is not so far off, 
or the light so hard to be attained, as some would fain 
imagine. It is at the door of the heart of every son 
and daughter of God's creation who is willing to un- 
lock the entrance and receive the heavenly messenger. 
And as it comes, all pure and bright, from the invisible 
fountain, see that ye all receive it gladly, as little chil- 
dren. And the truth, like the refreshing waters of a 



REFORMATION. 95 

calm and beautiful river, will flow to thee and give 
peace and joy to thy weary soul. The truth from God 
— not the truth which man has mangled and distorted 
to please his own fancy, and to confirm his fevered 
imaginings — the pure and simple truth, which comes 
from heaven to men's hearts, is as refreshing to the 
senses of the soul as the breath of fragrant flowers, 
and its influence is as warm and genial as the rays of 
the rising sun. The beauty of truth is the simplicity 
of truth ; and if it were so hard to be understood as 
many minds suppose it is, how should the humblest 
and most untutored in God's creation understand it ? 
But it is a beautiful truth, and worthy of all belief 
that it is free to all — free as the air we breathe ; free as 
the bird who soars on its free wing in the free sunshine 
of God's free light, made free by his boundless, freely- 
given love. 

Ye men who would be reformers of your race and 
age, use these revealments from Heaven to earth — from 
God through spirits — as a means of lio-hting the minds 
and understandings of your fellow-men with the beauty 
and simplicity of truth. Consider the advantage to be 
derived from a knowledge of the easy access of all 
truth-loving minds to the truth. Draw your supplies 
from the great fountain, whence it springs untainted 
by time or age. The streams are becoming mighty in 
their onward course to and through the earth. The 
fogs of ages which have hitherto kept men at a distance, 
as it were, giving them here and there a glimmer of 
light, but never breaking forth in all the glorious efful- 
gence of spiritual beauty and soul-inspiring light, are 
passing away forever. And could this great end be 



96 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

kept in view, the work would go bravely on. Men of 
unselfish desires, by their love of man, would assist 
spirits who love God and humanity to approach them 
with an easy influence, and enable them better to see 
and appreciate the great good resulting from the 
spiritual development of spirits on the earth. 

When spirits can so approach this sphere of being, 
they will show men that their errand is not a useless 
one to them, but pregnant with good will to man on 
earth from God in heaven. Then will men realize 
the benefits of this intercourse, and be enabled to per- 
ceive more clearly their divine right to the heaven 
which the Father hath prepared for all those who love 
and obey him. And to you who are seeking with 
humble hearts, I say, Be of good cheer, for the morn is 
breaking. The night of cloud and darkness, which 
enveloped the minds of men, is fast fading away, and 
the light which now cometh shall be as a beacon of 
hope to guide the weary traveler to his home of peace 
and everlasting rest. The pure and lowly in heart 
may go on their way rejoicing. 



THE PATH OF PROGRESSION. 97 



CHAPTEE XVII. 

THE PATH OF PROGRESSION. 

A picture of spirit life, given by Mrs. Hemaus, December 25, 1S52. 

A beautiful spirit came to me, and said : — " Mortal, 
come with me, and I will tell thee of the beauties of 
the sphere which lies beyond thy dwelling-place on 
earth. Having lived many years in the lower sphere 
— having tasted of its joys and its sorrows, its meetings 
and its partings, and having been surrounded by many 
different circumstances, some of which have had the 
tendency to make thee more earthly, and some of which 
have elevated thy soul, to now and then taste of the 
cup of pure joy, and having caught glimpses of that 
better land, which thy immortal yearnings have told 
thee has existed beyond thy sight or understanding, 
and having felt a strong desire to gaze into that un- 
known country, even with thy mortal vision ; but now 
having cast oft* that thick envelop called the body, and 
standing in thy more refined covering which is put on 
by all who arrive here, as being adapted to the climate 
and country which they inhabit, I will take thy hand 
and wander around with thee, and tell thee of that 
which thou art prepared to see and understand. Greater 
things could and will be shown thee, when thou shalt 
be strengthened, by growing in wisdom, to receive them. 



98 THE FLTTLKE LIFE, 

The people which thou seest, passing and repassing, 
are those who have left your sphere at different times, 
and all in different stages of development. Behold, 
now, how differently they appear to thee, as thou seest 
them pass. Behold ! some are sauntering along, and 
carelessly viewing the pleasant scenery. They do not 
pass very quickly from thy sight in their onward course, 
wdiich leads up that broad and shining path in which, as 
you may see, many are walking. It is not a level-shaped 
path, but commences where thou and I art standing, 
and rises until it assumes the appearance of an inclined 
road. And very beautiful and inviting it appears, if 
we may judge from the light which seems to illumine 
and brighten the surrounding objects. But, as I said, 
those spirits very slowly ascend this road ; they seemed 
to see the beauties from afar, and yet seemed too care- 
less or indolent to ascend the hill where they may be 
reached. 

Now, observe another spirit ; he carries a book in 
his hand and earnestly scans the pages, and then looks 
for the way-marks; but in failing to discover them, he 
shakes his head and says, " I will not ascend that hill 
yet — it does not correspond with the description which 
was laid down as being right ; therefore, I will walk 
on in this country, until I can find that which will ac- 
cord with my former instructions." And he gazes with 
a longing look at that beautiful road, but turns away to 
look for the landmarks ; and so continues longer in that 
country to seek them. 

But now we look at another. And it is a fair and 
beautiful maiden. As she walks along, she seems to 
be looking for some one whom she expected to meet, 



TIIE PATH OF PROGRESSION. 99 

but is disappointed in not being received by that per- 
son at her first entrance. Then she turns and inquires 
of one of those persons whose countenances are so calm 
and benignant, and who seem to wait to speak words 
of hope and encouragement, or to act as guides to all 
who may ask them for information ; and as she inquires, 
see how that spirit smiles and points upward to that 
shining road. He tells her that the loved friend whom 
she seeks, has left that country, and has ascended in 
that green and inviting path, whose borders are lined 
with ever-living flowers — and awaits her when she 
shall climb that hill, and be prepared to enjoy the 
beauties to which he has attained by upward labor. 
And now, see how joyfully she prepares to enter that 
road! See how willing she is to cast aside every ob- 
stacle which may hinder her from proceeding rapidly. 
She has no desire to remain below, but her aspirations 
will assist her to mount higher, and become developed 
in wisdom and love, and strengthened by diviire and 
holy breathings in her journey — because she grasps for 
that which is beautiful and lovely to her ; and through 
her love is her wisdom developed. 

And now gaze we on another. He is one who, when 
dwelling in your sphere, was a zealous and loving 
teacher of that which he thought was all pure truth 
immiugled with dross. And he seems to be quite as- 
hed — not because the place does not look beauti- 
ful or inviting, but because it is so different from what 
he had expected. He linds here all nations and tongues, 
all sects and denominations — in a word, ail names un- 
der heaven, which he had not expected to see in the 
same place where he is. And they all seem quite as 



100 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

well pleased with themselves and their belief, as though 
they had all been of the same opinion while on earth. 
Then his wonder increases as he perceives that they do 
not appear to be at all hopeless or desponding, but, on 
the contrary, seem to be progressing upward ; each one 
as he proceeds seeming to have found something in ad- 
vance better than that which he had left behind. And 
ever and anon they cast away from them old garments, 
apparently, or, as some would call them, opinions ; and 
some appear to have lost so many of these articles, or 
to have cast them aside, that they are rather in ad- 
vance, and look back and beckon to those behind to 
hasten on ; for I see that before they enter that beau- 
tiful path, they are divested of numberless coverings, 
and present a look of renovation. And now, in turn- 
ing to look at this person again, who seemed so per- 
plexed, we find him questioning one of those bright 
travelers, who seem to be ever waiting to do good ; and 
he washes to know why so many, whose different opin- 
ions had led to so many different sects on earth, all 
seemed to be enjoying the same privileges here; for, 
said he, i4 1 believed that I was inspired to speak the 
truth, and nothing but the truth ; but I could not have 
been the only one who so spoke, or I should not be 
compelled to mingle with the many whom I see here." 
And that spirit addressing him, said, " Brother, thou 
wast sincere in thy manner of teaching, but thou didst 
give thy mind too narrow a compass, and didst limit 
thy God in his love, which is infinite, and who bestowed 
alike on all who are willing to receive. When thou 
didst think that thy course w T as the sure criterion for 
others, according to thy knowledge and development 



THE PATH OF PROGRESSION. 101 

didst thou teach ; and so do many others, but the sea 
which all are wading through, is not half so full of 
dark gulfs and rocks as thou hast imagined ; but while 
all steer for the same harbor, they take many intricate 
windings, and run into almost endless streams of folly 
and useless reasoning before they reach it, which does 
not tend to lead them in the path that turns toward 
yon shining city. Very simple and easily to be under- 
stood, is the text which was given by one of old, who 
said : i Do good ; love thy neighbor as thyself, and 
do good unto all men.' For when men shall love their 
neighbors as themselves, they will not divide the human 
family into so many grades of distinction, and will not 
only call them brothers and sisters, but will aid and 
encourage them to become such." And I saw that 
spirit turn his head downward, as if in deep reflection, 
and pause, and think, and wonder. Slowly, at first, lie 
proceeds on his way, but by and by he mingles with 
the rest, and hastens on his journey to that city of joy. 
And now, we behold another. It is a vouno- and ar- 
dent youth ; one who was cut off while his hopes of 
fame and happiness were at their height. The sum- 
mons reached him, and nature obeyed the call. I be- 
hold his young spirit entering that land, not so eagerly 
as when he entered on his earthly career, but with 
an earnest and inquiring look. And he says: "Are 
all my high-born hopes of fame on earth — are all my 
proud anticipations of a name, which should be handed 
down to posterity as an heir-loom of value, to be ended 
here ? Are the laurels which I saw in my future glory, 
to be thus plucked from my young brow ? Truly, it is 
well to come to so pleasant a place; but I panted for 



102 THE FUTUPvE LIFE. 

earthly fame, and my day was made too short to attain 
the mine of wealth which I saw opened before my sight 
in the future." And while he thns spoke, a spirit, ven- 
erable in wisdom, and intellectual in mien, whose dig- 
nified motions revealed the deep language of thought 
within his soul, approached the youth and took him by 
the hand, and said : " My son, I see thou art an unwill- 
ing traveler in our country. Thy soul had begun to 
expand its wings and exult in earthly joys. Thy spirit 
had become influenced with desires of that which is 
but a shadow — a glimmer whose light would play 
around thee in fitful gleams on earth, and would only 
illumine thy path on that side of the grave. Think 
not that deeds of valor, or wreaths of fame, or oceans 
of blood, would make thee happier here. Know that 
thy young soul would have become hardened in the 
path which thou hadst chosen, and the many misdeeds 
which thou wouidst have committed in that sphere, 
would have made thy entrance less pleasant to thy soul 
here. Much wouidst thou have had to mourn over 
before thou couldst have reached this state which thou 
art now permitted to enter. The society in which thou 
wouidst have mingled would have been discordant, 
because at variance with the laws of harmony and 
love; and thy soul would have become so molded in 
the shape which thy occupations would have given it, 
that far below this plane thou wouidst have had to be- 
gin thy initiation into this sphere of progression. But 
thy view will be made to show thee a different aspect 
of things and thou wilt see that the wisdom which 
overruled thy early departure from earth, was kind in 
its dealings. Turn now thy soul to aspirations of 



THE PATH OF PROGRESSION. 103 

purity and goodness ; and let thy imagination wander 
ever so high in the realms of eternal progression or 
knowledge, it shall not return unsatisfied : so the deep 
thoughts of thy soul shall spring up and take to them- 
selves wings and fly over the great expanse of the sub 
lime works of the Creator, and return to thee as a dove 
with healing in its wings. Ask to drink at the foun- 
tain of knowledge, and thou shalt inhale draughts 
which will fill thee with more than earthly joy. And 
dost thou thirst for undying fame? In this thou shalt 
not be disappointed. Thou shalt become filmed as 
the youth who loves to excel in goodness and love 
among those poor spirits who have need of thy assist- 
ance. In many curious and wonderful things shalt 
thou be made famous, as thy spirit shall become willing 
and thy heart strong within thee to do thy Father's 
will. And the wreath of flowers which will encircle 
thy brow, shall bloom with a beauty, and give forth a 
fragrance, and shine with a glow as pure as that which 
encircles the happy spirits who dwell in the spheres of 
eternal light. And the work which thou mayst now 
join in, will be that of assisting thy brethren and sisters 
to become rapid travelers on the road to that fair city." 
And the youth's eye brightened, and his soul seemed to 
grow b^ within him ; and he said : "I will yet earn 
fame, eternal and spotless fame, by attaining to that 
height which seems so brilliant and beautiful, even in 
the far distance." And turning to that guide, he said, 
a 1 thank thee, father, and would gladly learn more of 
thee. My spirit is humbled, and would learn, at thy 
feet, the ways of wisdom." And see how he is ascend- 
ing also. 



101 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

And now another approaches, and we speak to liim. 
He says : " My journey through life has been a rugged 
one, with much of sorrow and little of joy. I toiled 
for my daily bread, and scarcely found time to reflect 
upon a future state. My desires were ever for a heaven 
of peace and love. And that which was pure and 
good ever found a warm response in my breast ; but I 
was unable to elevate my mind to the attainment of 
knowledge concerning it. And now, having entered it 
unexpectedly, it seems to me to be a most lovely place ; 
and yet so strange it seems, that I am unable to enjoy 
it. I see much on every side that I do not understand. 
I am abashed at nay own ignorance in regard to the 
place in which I have been introduced." Then turning 
to a spirit, he said : u I am a stranger in a strange 
country. All things astonish and delight me because 
of their beauty. But still I am as a child, for I gaze 
on them and feel happy because of their loveliness, but 
can not appreciate them for want of an understanding 
of their nature and uses." And the spirit replied : " If 
thy life on earth was destitute of worldly luxuries, and 
thy soul craved that which was pure and good, but 
could not gain a key to it, owing to thy depressing 
condition, thou art doubly blest; for thy po^rty on 
earth did not destroy the richness of thy spirit's love to 
thy Father in heaven. Therefore, enter thou in the 
way which becomes brighter and more lovely as thou 
shalt proceed, and the cloud of mental darkness, which 
kept the pure light from shining in upon thy soul, shall 
now be removed, and thou shalt become expanded and 
purified, and thy light shall become brighter and 
brighter unto the perfect day. For the greatest shall 



THE PATH OF PROGRESSION. 105 

be least, and the least shall become great because of 
their humility of soul." 

And now comes another; one who, while on earth, 
could never find the key to unlock the knowledge for 
which his soul yearned. For his soul craved deep 
draughts of knowledge, brought from the sealed foun- 

© © ? © 

tains of the lore of by-gone ages. An external view of 
men and things, as they were, would not satisfy his ap- 
petite ; but to consult the stars and study the signs of 
the heavens, and the mysterious secrets contained in the 
bosom of Nature, was his delightsome labor. And his 
spirit often would chafe and grow gloomy because of the 
weakness of his wings to soar away to the hidden places 
of earth, and penetrate their mysteries. And when his 
soul had reached this place, it was weary with long 
watching for light and mental labor. Now, as he ap- 
proached, how humble and joyful seemed his attitude! 
He would raise his hands in mute thankfulness, or would 
murmur, " I thank thee, O Father, that thou hast per- 
mitted me to become acquainted with the glorious light 
which is being imparted to my soul in answer to its earn- 
est longings. I am overawed with thy might and thy 
majesty, worm that I am, who thought that I knew the 
mysteries of the great God of Heaven. My soul was 
but struggling to grasp an atom, to gain a glimpse of 
that which is being revealed. The eternal music which 
breathes amid all the harmonious spheres of beauty, 
wafts my soul higher and higher till it seems to mount, 
as in a dream of love, to adore the glory of God. How 
small, how ignorant, I seem, while viewing the glories 
around me ! Oh, assist me, bright guides, assist me to 
climb up higher, and learn the way." 



106 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

And now comes still another; a gentle spirit she is. 
How lovely she seems ! As she glides along, she holds 
in her arms an innocent babe. What holy affection 
and chastened love is expressed in her countenance ! 
She pauses and speaks, and caresses her babe, and says : 
" O spirit, I have left my home on earth, and I have 
met my beloved babe already, and how joyful I am. 
But will you not send back to earth, and tell my dearly 
loved friends how happy I am, and how useless is all 
their weeping for me? Oh, tell them that I am learning 
the ways of peace and happiness; that I am preparing 
to receive and instruct them when they shall arrive 
here ; that, although a mother's form has left the earth, 
a mother's love still shares all their hopes and joys. 
And oh, bid them be hopeful and seek to have the love 
of God shed abroad in their hearts on earth, that I may 
be able to approach them on their entrance into the 
Spirit-world/' And she glided away. Happy, happy 
mother ! bearing her babe in her arms, who had been 
brought to meet and comfort her on her upward jour- 
ney. But mark how she pauses to send back a word of 
encouragement and hope to those wdio are left. 

Now observe those aged ones as they approach. See 
how quickly they lose the appearance of old age — of 
wrinkles and trembling limbs ! How erect become 
their forms ! how elastic seem their movements, and 
how undimmed their eyes as they gaze around ! In 
casting aside their earthly forms, they are no longer 
subject to the penalties of nature by which they were 
formerly affected. The life that is past seems a half- 
forgotten dream. Suddenly they seem to have become 
possessed of a full consciousness of the reality ; and so 



THE PATH OF mOGRESSION. 107 

clear and unclouded becomes their vision, that they 
feel as though they had gone back to the happy dawn 
of childhood, when every thing seemed fresh, and new, 
and wonderful. Ah, how truly they feel that they 
have been born again — out of the dim and fading world 
in which they dreamed, as it were, into the ethereal 
atmosphere of the spirit-existence ; and verily as little 
children they seem, so delighted they are with all 
around them. 

And as these people recede from our view, all going 
upward — some faster and some slower — we pause and 
ask, for what are they seeking in that broad and 
shining path ? Is it happiness ? Why this place seems 
beautiful and fit to be enjoyed. But I will tell thee 
where they are going. All having, from different de- 
grees of knowledge and development, arrived thus far 
on their journey, they still perceive beyond, a much 
brighter and more glorious heaven to be reached. 
Therefore they do not tarry by the way-side, but as ihej 
travel onward they are constantly finding greater 
treasures, and becoming more anxious to behold the 
glories of the higher spheres to which that shining path 
leads. For as they recede from the plane of earth in 
their spirit-journey, they behold the unfolding glories 
far beyond them, and glowing with immortal brightness 
shines the light of the opening heavens as they travel 
upward. 

The spirit on entering its next state, only becomes 
more awake — more sensitive to the realities which lie 
beyond its view ; it but steps on another round of the 
ladder, which leads upward and onward to spheres of 
eternal love and unfolding wisdom. And by thy life 



108 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

here, O man ! dost thou make thy heaven fair and lovely, 
or thy existence dark and gloomy until thou hast over- 
come thy errors by earnest labor. Thou dost either 
enter a school where thou must learn the first rudiments 
of thy immortal destiny, or if, having learned of thy 
spirit-existence, thou dost enter its precincts with thy 
mind prepared to view its beauties, thy heaven becomes 
still brighter as thy journey becomes more lengthy ; 
and being assisted by angel-guides, upward shalt thou 
soar until thou art lost amid the happy throng who 
bask in the pure and glorious light of their Father s 
smile. 



VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 109 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH 

January, 1353. 

I wandered through a dark valley, and it was called 
the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Dim and shadowy 
it appeared to many who were passing through it. 
Unlike the material things which the senses had seen 
and felt, appeared the misty future, while passing 
through this path of shadows. But at length the vale 
is passed, and the spirit enters into its new abode. It 
gazes around with looks of wonder and astonishment 
on the opening scene. It seems to have passed as 
through a troubled and indistinct dream, and to have 
suddenly awaked to perceive the unclouded reality of 
the objects by which it is surrounded. What warm 
and blissful emotions are now experienced! Looks of 
inquiry are directed to every quarter where the eye 
may reach; and the first thought — the first desire is — 
the presence of a kindred object — something molded 
in the likeness of itself — to answer its aspirations. 

Now the friends of that spirit approach to welcome it 
to its new abode — to joyfully embrace the long-ex- 
pected companion. And now their hands are clasped 
in gentle and earnest affection ; and they wander away 
— the spirits speaking to the stranger-spirit of the land 



110 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

which it is about to inhabit. See how many are 
approaching, and extending their hands in welcome, 
and smiling with looks of recognition ! And as they 
proceed — a bright and happy group — they are met by 
others who pause to hold converse with them, and 
seem to give them instructions, and to point forward. 
Then their attention is next turned to themselves, and 
I see them comparing their own appearance with that 
of others, — not judging by the external garb, but by the 
light of the inner soul, which paints its character on 
every countenance. In comparing thus, certain dif- 
ferences are perceived. Some appear altogether more 
lovely than others; some seem filled with a joy which 
causes their countenances to be luminous and glowing, 
and others are earnestly laboring to attain to that in- 
terior brightness which makes those around them so 
lovely. 

Then the stranger-spirit begins to retire within itself, 
and says : " Why do I appear so gross and so unfit to 
mingle in this society ? Bright and beautiful beings 
are around me, but I am unable to approach them as 
closely as I wish. Can I be unworthy to mingle with 
them ? — is my form incapable of becoming as beautiful 
as theirs, which shed a soft and yellow luster wherever 
they move? I look within, and my heart asks for 
something more to satisfy than my anxious gaze on the 
beauty which surrounds others but warms not me." So 
naturally turns that spirit for instruction, that he may 
become in truth a citizen of that beautiful country. 
And I see now those brighter beings smile and converse 
with each other ; and they say : " His eyes have been 
opened ; he feels the need of the refining influences of 



VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. Ill 

the spirits 9 breathing — of light within his soul." Again, 
they say : u He is studying himself as he is ; he is 
taking the first lesson of spiritual experience — he is 
beginning to learn the wisdom of the sphere which he 
now inhabits." 

]\ T ow I see that spirit engaged in a searching 
scrutiny. He gazes back on his former life and teach- 
ings, and is astonished to behold them as a book 
wherein was written much that was dark and dim, and 
which now seems merely as a shadow without a reality. 
And his former life appears as a stream whose course 
was here and there lighted up by the rays of the sun, 
but which anon led through a dark and shadow r y 
vale. He now wonders and inquires why the things 
which are beginning to appear so plain, should have 
appeared to him so dim on earth ; and thus the bright 
beings that surround him answer: — 

" The history of men and things was given in the 
past according to the state of human development. So 
tar as the minds of men were unfolded to perceive the 
laws of the inner world, they gave forth that knowledge 
to others. Some were gifted with a spirit of prophecy 
to an extent adapted to the wants of the age in which 
they lived. Some were inspired to speak words of 
truth and wisdom, such as were needed by the hearers 
who listened to their teachings. Some were made 
natural physicians, and cured diseases by the laying on 
of hands; and others were sent forth as reformers and 
heralds of the coming day, and the hearts of the people 
were shaken with the strength of the spirit. And 
behold a lovely child was born of lowly parents, and a 
manger received the infant form. Glorious spirits 



112 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

watched its slumbers, as it rested in innocence and 
beauty. Beautiful and harmonious in its structure was 
the new-born spirit ; and being ever surrounded and 
strengthened by a holy influence, the child waxed 
strong in virtue and pure in character. Sublime was 
the power and sweet was the aroma of the light 
emanating from the spiritual world, lifting him far 
above the influences of the earthly sphere. Therefore 
did he go forth to the world as an instrument of truth 
and life-giving wisdom, as an angel of peace to his 
brethren, and as a physician to the afflicted. And now 
in this holy and divine abode, the ocean of love, which 
once rolled through his uplifted soul will swell into a 
still wider expanse, and streams from this ocean will 
flow down to the human world, that the children of 
earth may feel and know that he is indeed their 
brother. Thus shall the kingdom of God be established 
on the earth; thus shall the might and majesty of 
Love be known, and thus shall the world that has 
lingered long in darkness be bathed in the floods of 
heavenly radiance.'' 

Thus spake the bright spirits to the stranger-spirit ; 
and when the first pages of the book of eternal wisdom 
were thus unfolded, and the harmonious blending of 
the heavenly with the earthly sphere was revealed, it 
was seen that the Yailey of the Shadow of Death is but 
the pathway through which the spirit enters into the 
courts of the celestial temples, where the voice of 
wisdom — revealing the past and the future — is ever 
whispering to the brightening soul. 



A MIBEOR. 113 



CHAPTER XIX. 

a mieeoe: in which christians may 
see theie duty. 

February, 1S53. 

I would show thee a mirror, in which to gaze, that 
thou mayest behold the manner and make of the per- 
sons who jostle against thee in the paths o£life. They 
are not the native children of the forest who worship 
the Great Spirit in a temple not made with hands, nor 
are they the poor misled children of distant climes, who 
worship sticks and stones which they can see, instead 
of the Great Spirit whom they can not see, each one 
serving God in his own way, and not questioning the 
right of another to do so. But behold thy neighbors 
and thy friends. They worship God in what manner 
they see fit, but they are not willing to accord to thee 
the same privilege — they must needs brand others as 
infidels and blasphemers. 

But now, good Brothers of the Church, take heed 
that ye judge not, for ye may likewise be judged ; but 
if thy brother is happy in his onward course, if his soul 
becomes ecstatic and filled with joy, do not envy him 
this blessing, for he would gladly have each one of you 
partake with him, and would not seek to drive any 
away from the fountain at which he drinks. And, 
brother, if thy Christian love which you profess to feel 



Hi THE FUTURE LIFE. 

for the world at large, burns brightly in thy bosom, 
turn not thy hand against him, and use not thy tongue 
as an edged sword to cut him in twain ; but stretch 
forth thy hand, and open thy heart as a brother should 
do unto a brother, and prove to his reason, and to thy 
own satisfaction that he is wrong and thou art right; 
for if ye save a soul from destruction, it shall be as a 
star in the crown of thy rejoicing when the lost and 
scattered tribes of Israel are gathered together. Know 
that thou art not following thy Master's precepts, when, 
by calumny, and contempt, and assertion, yea, and even 
falsehood, you seek to deny the things which you can 
not make clear to those who would ask of thee informa- 
tion. Like the old Jews, you say a it is a devil — it is a 
lying spirit," and so shake your finger in scorn and 
derision. 

Not so did your Master, whom ye profess to follow. 
When he beheld the weak and sinning ones, in their 
ignorance and misery, he gently laid his hands upon 
them and healed them of their diseases ; he spoke in 
words of kindness and love, and told them who had 
sinned to go and sin no more; he came not to satisfy 
the curious or wonder-seeking mind, but his mission 
was to teach the lowly and the ignorant, — to bring joy 
and gladness to the downcast and weary hearts of hu- 
manity — to whisper sweet hope and consolation to the 
afflicted in soul and body. Such was his mission, O 
Christian people! and we would that ye might imitate 
that bright and lovely example which has so long been 
set before you, — so long indeed that ye have begun to 
regard it as a fable, preserved to please the fancy, for 
ye do not follow the Jesus whom ye profess to worship. 



A MIEKOS. 115 

Te build gorgeous edifices in which to worship that 
being who while on earth had not where to lay his 
head, and ye give forth flowery and brilliant discourses 
suited to flowery and comfortable lives, and perchance 
the few coppers which some would throw to the wan- 
dering musician, ye deal out as a pittance of charity to 
the poor of the church. But ye are satisfied with your- 
selves because circumstances have placed you in a posi- 
tion where wealth may gratify all your worldly wants, 
but ye do not make your poverty-stricken brother your 
equal, ye do not allow him wherewithal to become 
such ; and when through ignorance and want he is 
made to commit crime, and then to suffer the punish- 
ment awarded by the laws of the land, it is not with a 
sigh that ye hear of his doom, but it is with a stern and 
reproving brow, that ye exclaim, " Let the majesty of 
the law be vindicated/' And thus your brethren are 
punished for the crimes which they have committed 
through the pressure of poverty, or by the action of 
those passions which have been called forth in their 
worst forms by the very state of existing society. 

There are men even in your midst who hunger for 
food and shiver in the cold, and when they are refused 
the supply which nature demands, if they stretch forth 
their hands to take that which their bodies require to 
retain the spirit, ye visit that upon them as a sin; and 
so might a larger portion of the human family ever be 
uncared for, were they to depend upon your aid and 
assistance to raise them up from their spiritual darkness 
and temporal need. So they surround you on every 
hand. Ye need not cross the ocean — ye need not go to 
the islands of the sea, or the burning sands of Africa, 



116 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

to find employment for your Christian charities, but ye 
may go to your prisons, — ye may go to your dark cel- 
lars and attics — ye may go to your dens of infamy and 
wretchedness, and there ye may find an ample field to 
commence a Christian warfare with poverty and igno- 
rance, and abundant opportunity to uplift souls who 
are almost soulless for want of a cheering light to glow 
amid the chilling and night-like darkness. Go there 
and tell those poor degraded ones, of comfort and joy 
for them here ; tell them first that there is food suffi- 
cient to satisfy their craving hunger, and they will listen 
to you ; and when you have done this, see if they have 
not a soul — though it may be almost entirely hid be- 
neath the rubbish and filth of their poverty and shame; 
and when this becomes apparent, raise them up — take 
them by the hand, and let them see that they are men 
and women, with souls which may be made bright and 
lovely through your influence, and when this is accom- 
plished, their eyes will brighten, and their countenances 
beam with joy, because of their elevation in the scale 
of humanity. Thus will ye do your Master's will by 
loving your neighbor as yourself. 

But when the church has been so tardy in performing 
this work, while the wants of humanity call so loudly 
for action, is it to be wondered at that spirits come to 
do the work and perform the action which have been 
so long neglected ? Is it wonderful that the very same 
ignorant mortals who left you in the midst of their 
ignorance do come and tell you that they are happy, 
because they found friends to take them by the hand 
and teach them that which they never found on earth ? 
And what cause is there for sneers, if their words are 



A MISKOE. 117 

simple and messages imperfect? A simple tale is better 
imperfectly told, than a fine fable highly colored, but 
without a substance. But the spirits who love their 
brethren on earth are rapidly making themselves known 
to the inhabitants thereof, and they shall come as a 
mighty host, and shall assist man to raise his fellow- 
man to his heaven-born life, for not by a name, or 
profession, or a calling, shall ye be saved, but by doing 
the works and the will of your Father which is in 
heaven. Therefore, Christian brethren, if the spirits 
return only to teach love and kindness, be it in ever so 
simple a manner, do not rebuke them, but follow the 
precepts which ye call holy and divine, and do unto 
others as ye would that they would do unto you ; and 
by love, and charity, and forbearance, to the brethren 
whom ye think are erring, shall the world see, that ye 
are indeed followers of the meek and lowly Jesus. 



118 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XX. 



TH E BOOK OF LIFE, 



February 19, 1853. 



"Whejst even two or three shall meet together with 
humble and loving hearts, seeking for wisdom, spirits 
will be attracted to bless them w T ith the light of love 
and truth. Thus, though no outward or visible mani- 
festation be made, the soul may look inwardly, and 
hold communion with the messengers of peace and 
love who shall write their thoughts in the book of the 
inner life. Let, then, the telegraphic line between the 
soul and heaven be unobstructed by any earthly imped- 
iment. 

It is not signs or wonders on the earth that should be 
sought, but all should seek that the v/indows of the 
soul may be opened, so that the brightness of spiritual 
wisdom may be seen and appreciated as it is by the 
harmonious dwellers of the Spirit-land. It is this wis- 
dom that shall cause man to look abroad on his fellows 
with a discriminating mind and with, a feeling heart. 
This shall elevate his soul and enable it to penetrate 
into the recesses of cause and effect, and to perceive 
the operation of natural laws in the workings of the 
human mind. It is indeed this wisdom which shall 
open to thee, O man ! the Book of Life — by which is 



THE BOOK OF LIFE. 119 

signified the laws and beauties of the spheres which 
the soul may inhabit ; the earth-sphere being to thee 
the first lesson of the unfolding truth. And this 
volume is capable of being made much clearer to the 
understanding than has been conceived; and while 
thou art yet an inhabitant of the rudimental sphere, 
let that volume be carefully perused; for by so doing 
thy soul shall become so clear that thou mayest perceive 
how great are the powers of thy being, and how nearly 
it is possible to approach and assimilate with the im- 
mortal spheres. When the earthly garb is changed for 
a purer covering, thou dost only turn over another leaf 
in the Book of Life ; thou art only a little more ethere- 
al ized in thy nature, so as to be able to step a little 
higher — thy soul has only cast off a few of its thick 
envelopes, and stands forth a little more clearly. So 
death, when viewed in its true light, is only a veil re- 
moved from the eyes of the spirit ; and in proportion 
as the soul on earth becomes disrobed of its dark cover- 
ings and external views, so is it prepared to rise higher 
in the sphere of existence to which it ascends. 

Thus the first page of the Book of Life may be 
perused on earth. But to some it presents almost an 
empty blank ; while to others it glows with beautiful 
sentiments of love and harmony in unison with nature. 
To some it is a dark, blurred, and blotted page, whereon 
they read naught but desolation and sorrow ; and to 
others it seems as the uprising of a glorious morning; 
when suddenly the leaf is turned, and they are ushered 
into another sphere. So all read the first page more or 
less differently ; and think you that those who have 
hurriedly, blindly, and ignorantly perused this, will be 



120 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

introduced at once to all the higher beauties of heaven ? 
ISTot so. Every soul-spark from the divine germ must 
be developed on a natural and progressive principle, 
and if on earth the spirit has been covered with a man- 
tle of darkness which has obscured its vision and shut 
out the lessons on this first page of life, it must read 
those lessons when the mantle has been laid aside in the 
tomb. Hence it occurs that many who have departed 
from the earth-sphere are not far beyond its more 
advanced inhabitants in their perusal of the Book of 
Life. Some are just learning to repeat the first letters, 
as they are revealed to their dimmed sight. I might 
show you those who have not yet discovered the spark 
that lingers in their interior being. I might show you 
others w T ho are progressing from a state of darkness, 
and are turning their faces upw r ard toward the light, 
and I might show you how earnestly they are perusing 
those primary lessons of wisdom which they could not 
read on the earth ; and then I could point you to angel- 
brothers who come from a higher heaven of purity, 
and who, reading from those pages of light, instruct 
their weaker kindred in its beautiful lore. 

By many the Book of Life has been carelessly 
scanned. They have merely glanced at the covering — 
looked only on the outside, but have not examined the 
store of wisdom which it contains. And as such turn 
over the next leaf of their existence, they will be sur- 
prised to find how great w T as their simplicity and igno- 
rance with respect to all that pertains to real life. 
Many others also who have sought to search deeply 
into the mysteries of human wisdom, will be astonished 
to find how much mystery they have created for them- 



THE BOOK OF LITE. 121 

selves, and not only for themselves, but for surrounding 
minds. In this way the book of human existence, ob- 
scured by a cloudy haze, has been a blank to many ; 
and so they have turned over the second page without 
properly consulting the first. But there are some 
minds which are prepared to read the counsels of 
divine wisdom ; and to such as these, who are willing 
to cast aside the trammels of education and prejudice, 
and become children'in the hands of teachers, will the 
Book of Life be opened — not merely the first and 
second, but many succeeding pages, as the soul becomes 
strengthened to receive the knowledge contained therein. 
It is not the fanatic, or the man whose brain is the re- 
ceptacle of every fanciful chimera, that is prepared to 
receive and appreciate immortal lore; it is only by a 
gradual, a philosophical, and harmonious labor and un- 
folding of soul, that a few of the human family are 
fitted to begin the investigation which shall lead to a 
revealment of that beauty and wisdom which are con- 
tained in the yet unread pages of the celestial volume. 

6 



122 THE FUTUIiE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XXL 



A BEAUTIFUL LESSON. 



By Mrs. Hemans, March, 1S53. 



I gazed at a little bird, and it taught me a beautiful 
lesson. When first it became conscious of being, it 
asked for food, that being all the knowledge it yet pos- 
sessed, and all the want it felt — food, and a warm cov- 
ering, as it nestled close to its parent, under the 
parent-wing. As I still gaze at the tiny thing, it be- 
comes stronger, and more energetic in its calls for 
nourishment, and stretches forth its little head, and 
would fain take wing, and soar after the guardian whose 
watchful care has protected it from all impending dan- 
ger. And daily it becomes stronger and more able to 
observe for itself; and as this power increases, see how 
it endeavors to sustain its own weight, and leave the 
little nest which has been its world so long, but is now 
becoming too small to contain it longer. Very soon I 
behold the little bird flying a short distance, and the 
parent has permitted it to make th*is trial of its strength, 
merely to teach it the way which it may go when it 
becomes stronger, and has no need of a protector as in 
its feeble and infantile state. Then it returns to the 
little nest ; but oh, how very small and uncomfortable 
now seems the once downy home. Having once taken 



A BEAUTIFUL LESSON. 123 

a glimpse of the outer beauty which surrounds that 
home, it can never more remain there contented, but 
longs to grow and to strengthen, that it may soar away 
in the distance, and behold the beautiful world above 
and around it. And soon, little bird, wilt thou leave 
that nest in which thy infant being was developed, 
never more to return ; but through the boundless sky, 
and in the pure atmosphere wilt thou soar and become 
glad, and happy, in thy heavenward flight. 

Like unto this little bird, in its flight upward, is Man. 
He comes into being, surrounded by the things of sense 
that crowd the realm of external life ; but, as he grows 
stronger and becomes interiorly expanded, he is made 
conscious of his own inward existence as an individual- 
ized soul. Then, as he sees a depth to be reached, or a 
height to be attained which he is unable to arrive at, 
struggling ever to rise, yet feeling his want of strength 
to do so, he returns dissatisfied and disappointed. But 
again the longing grows stronger within him to know 
more of the future. Beautiful, but dreamlike visions 
float before him. Strange music seems to stir up his 
soul with a deep melody, and pure and beautiful images, 
as descending from a far-off* world of beauty, pass in 
the distance, ever eluding his grasp, yet ever beckoning 
him onward. And again he becomes restless — again he 
attempts to soar above his prison-house of clay; and he 
gazes into the heart of the world, listening for an en- 
couraging voice, but finds no echo there to the deep 
longings of his soul. Then he turns and looks within 
his own being, and now and then he catches a glimpse 
of his ideal world ; but as the aspirations that rise up 
within him remain unsatisfied, he begins to regard them 



124 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

merely as a dream of youth and sunshine, which will 
pass away with coming years and coming cares. And 
as the heart becomes corroded by the anxieties of life, 
it loses the freshness of its youthful being — loses its 
hungering after the beautiful, which it once required 
as a food to sustain the strength of the soul. Thus does 
man when engaged in the busy turmoil of life, carelessly 
resign that knowledge of the inner life, which would 
make his old age as a fountain of youth and hope, whose 
freshness would eternally renew the beauty of the soul ; 
— and this is because he is wrongly educated, for when 
the spirit of man in his youth would fain soar on high, 
to be filled with the stream of knowledge, he is not 
directed to look within himself to find the hidden 
spring. 

But lo ! those far-off visions of more than Eden love- 
liness, are but the outshadowings of the spirit' s beauty, 
which lies within its own deep bosom. The dim images 
of beautiful beings that are mirrored in the soul, are 
but the reflection of angel-forms with which that soul 
is in close communion ; and the deep melody which 
touches the chords of the spirit as with airy fingers, is 
but the dreamy music which the material sense could 
never feel. O man, how deep, how beautiful how un- 
fathomed are the fountains of knowledge and of joy, 
which lie within thine own being ! — and how corroding 
in their nature, are the material forms and fancies in 
which thou art ever robing thyself as with a mantle, to 
keep out the spirit's light and beauty ! Oh, shut not thy- 
self up as within a temple of stone or iron which none 
may penetrate, but throw off* every external covering 
from thy soul's form, and be childlike, and simple, and 



A BEAUTIFUL LESSON. 125 

truthful in thy walk ; look above the little world which 
you live upon, and soar upward and feel the joy of thy 
spirit's unfolding into a world of peace and everlasting 
rest. 



126 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XXII. 



RETROSPECTION. 



May 25, 1853. 



My Earthly Friends : — 

I have been permitted to return to my old, my 
former place of abode for a few moments, that I may 
give you a few of the sentiments which now fill my 
soul with wonder and admiration. 

I have not been long an inhabitant of these upper 
regions, of which I am about to speak ; but short and 
blissful as my experience has been, I would not exchange 
it for all the honors and glories which a thousand years 
on earth, with all their changing scenes of times, and 
of action, and opinions might heap upon me. 

My station on earth was considered an honorable 
one; by my fellow-countrymen I was looked up to as 
endowed with a degree of wisdom, which enabled me 
to exert a controlling influence over the minds of my 
fellow-men. 

And I have since, discovered that many things which 
were said and done by me have left a lasting impression 
behind ; and for all those true and earnest efforts which 
were made for the good of my fellow-men- in the form, 
and which have left their impression on the race, I now 



RETROSPECTION. 127 

thank God from my inmost soul. But for many others 
done by me in moments of thoughtlessness, or when 
acting under the impulses of impetuous feeling or 
aroused passions, my deepest regrets are awakened, 
and the more that I am daily witnessing their baleful 
effects. 

It is very delightful, after leaving the earth, ray 
friends, to return and look back on a life well spent 
in doing unto others as I would that they should do 
unto me. It is a most pleasant reflection, and gives 
back a sweet perfume from earth even while dwelling 
in heaven. 

My mind is gazing back on the hours spent while 
here, and I have thought, within the depths of my 
soul, that were it my mission to return again to the 
form I left, and live over again my short life, how dif- 
ferently would I employ it ! 

It is but a reflection, for well I know it is impossible. 
But how clearly does reflection cause every past action 
to stand forth before my eyes in bold relief at this mo- 
ment! It is so impressed on my mind, and oh ! how I 
would impress it upon others, how much of joy or sor- 
row, of heaven or hell, we create for ourselves ! 

I have been permitted to come here, night after night, 
and gaze upon the wise spirits who have been directing 
your minds to higher wisdom than mine has ever tasted 
of. My mind has expanded, and my soul swelled out, 
as I have gazed on the vast fields of living light and 
beauty that spread before me, and are yet to be explored. 

My labor has but begun ; I am but learning the first 
lessons of profound knowledge, which belongs not to 
earth, but to eternal and ever-living happiness. What 



128 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

a mere child of knowledge I realize myself to be when 
gazing around me ! 

Wise men of earth ! could you but gaze up and see 
the wisdom that is around you, and ever impressing 
your minds, your wisdom would seem so foolish you 
would veil vour faces in meekness and humilitv, and 
you would feel glad and thankful to see those majestic 
forms who surround you, who assist and uphold you 
by their wisdom, and whisper words of strength to 
your weakened spirits, when struggling for light, like 
the bird struggling in the net of the fowler. 

I would again say, did the wise men of the earth 
know how much they depend on sources other than 
themselves, they would not be puffed up so much with 
their own self-love. The impression of their self-im- 
portance would be dimmed, and they would be willing 
to come as little children to learn internal wisdom. 



THE MECHANIC. 129 



CHAPTEE XXIII. 



THE MECHANIC. 



June 17, 1853. 

I come on an errand here this evening, or at least 
was sent to give that which might be a lesson when 
taken in connection with some of your teachings. 

"While a dweller on earth, my occupation was that of 
a humble artisan, and I earned my daily bread by fol- 
lowing a humble occupation, and was only prevented 
from becoming an enthusiastic laborer in the higher 
branches of my profession by the force of circum- 
stances, which made me what the world called a poor 
man. But there was ever within my heart a deep 
yearning, an earnest longing to excel in that in which 
I was only a lower-class workman. And having lived 
out the number of years which my body could sustain 
my soul on this earth, I departed to another sphere, 
and now I wish to show you in what I have been 
engaged since my entrance there. I was not what the 
world called a religionist, nor was I an immoral man, 
but my principles were based on the considerations 
which I could bring to bear in favor of natural reason- 
ing, or, as you may call it, common sense. 

Therefore, when entering upon my next state, I 
naturally shrunk back, being afraid to enter boldly a 



130 THE FQTUEE LIFE. 

place of which. I knew so little beforehand. I was 
very soon, however, met by some dear relatives, who 
received me with exceeding joy and thankfulness. 
And having explained to me the position which I 
should have to occupy, they told me I should be amply 
supplied with instructors, who would patiently and 
mildly teach me all I might desire to know ; that 
whether it was much or little was wholly depending on 
myself, for knowledge is never forced on any one in the 
spirit-world. So after becoming initiated into the 
ways and customs of that place, or community as I 
may call it, I soon became deeply interested in the 
work which my hands found to do, and that was the 
very same occupation which I had so earnestly desired 
to excel in while on earth. It may seem strange, but 
it is true, that I was really engaged in the same occu- 
pation, and the same pursuits attracted me which had 
engrossed me while in the body, but my materials were 
of a more refined nature. 

I resided in that place until I became too old a 
scholar to learn any more in that school. I was then 
impressed to go to another, and so I have been studying 
and laboring for years in this pursuit. Not in this, 
alone, but it was the predominant topic which has en- 
gaged my mind, having the greatest attraction for me, 
and calling out my energies more powerfully than any 
thing else. My soul is alive to all the beauties which 
surround it; and looking about through the land where 
I dwell, I see many beautiful structures that man would 
call a vast conception of brain, and that, my friends, is 
the conception of my brain. That which is beautiful 
to the eyes of others is an emanation or a labor which 



THE MECHANIC. 131 

has been brought into its present state by the energies 
which have been expanded and developed in my indi- 
vidual case. 

Thus you may see that all spirits have an occupation 
or employment, but mine is not performed solely by me. 
There are many others assisting me, and learning of 
me that which has made me so happy and useful to 
those around me, while others are quite as useful tome, 
thus all depending on one another in our sphere of ex- 
istence. 

I can't speak more of my experience at present, but 
others will who will speak better. This lesson is only 
given as having a connection with your late teachings 
— a filling up of shades, another tint in the coloring of 
the picture. 



132 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



THE PREACHER. 



June VI, 1S53. 



" For the wicked shall be cast into hell, and all the 
nations that forget God. This is a solemn thought, my 
hearers, and one on which we should prayerfully and 
candidly exercise our minds. Yea, verily. It is a 
solemn thought. The wicked shall be cast into hell, 
where the worm never dies, and the fire is never 
quenched. Oh ! my friends, flee from the wrath to 
come. Put away your sins, lest the Son of Man come 
in the night-time, and oh ! ye sinners ! beware how ye 
tempt an angry God !" 

This was the doctrine I preached on earth, this the 
way in which I filled the poor human heart with fear 
and trembling, with shrinking from a kind and benefi- 
cent God, whose only manifestation is smiling on his 
creatures, by calling him angry ! by crying up hell-fire, 
the horrors of those who disobey, and distorting every 
thing to suit my own peculiar views. I thought I was 
doing right and God a service by upholding these 
gloomy dogmas, which I gave forth with such a zeal, 
with such bitter denunciations against the erring 
mortals who should have been encouraged and dealt 
kindly with, and not horrified and frightened with the 
contemplation of death. 



THE PREACHES. loo 

I thus departed from earth, feeling happy that I had 
done ray duty and borne my cross, and might enter into 
the joys of my Father's house. I entered the spirit- 
world, but was not met by the rejoicing and bright 
angels I expected ; by some friends, to be sure, but 
their countenances were sad and gloomy; there was 
evidently something on their minds. Instead of re- 
joicing and songs of praise, it was rather a gloomy and 
mournful greeting on my first entrance, and a sadness 
came over my soul. I asked, "How is this? Why 
should heaven seem so gloomy a place 2" I said, "Friends, 
can you tell me the reason ? There is no rejoicing, no 
gladness in your looks. You have some inward sor- 
row. Pray, convey me to Him whose cause I have 
served. Let me see the Saviour who died on the cross 
to redeem sinners. Give me something to repay me for 
all my labor." 

One venerable-looking brother, whom I had known 
on earth, approached me solemnly, and, taking my 
hand, said, " Our life-teachings have been wrong. They 
have caused more mourning and shrinking from the 
approach of death than happiness, driving hundreds 
away by their asperity, who would have been glad to 
gaze beyond the veil of eternity." I asked, " Can it be 
possible that my whole life has been spent wrongly, 
that I lived an inharmonious life, that instead of doing 
God service, I have done evil toward my fellow-men ?" 

My soul was so troubled and cast down, that after 
pausing awhile, I said to that brother, " What shall I 
do to be saved V He said, " When you shall see your 
errors, and be willing to go down and redeem the wrong 
you have done in the hearts which are there, then, and 



It34 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

not till then, will you begin your path of ascension, 
and by your labor blot out your sins by assisting others 
to blot out theirs." 

And, my friends, as soon as I was made conscious of 
my error, I began my work. I gave up my narrow 
conceptions of the Deity. Groveling worm that I was, 
how little did I know of the majesty of God ! I be- 
gan earnestly and trustfully to cast away the chains 
that bound my soul. I began my labors. And, oh, 
yes, it was a labor, indeed ; sufficient to wash away my 
many sins, when I shall have washed away the errors 
from those minds whose ignorance was made darker by 
my errors, and who might now have been farther ad- 
vanced but for my teachings. 

I am now ascending. I begin to see the beauties of* 
the spirit-world, and the tears fill my eyes when I think 
what I might have been. 

Friends ! thank your God that you are free, and that 
you are on the road ahead, far in advance of many of 
the dwellers in the spirit-land. 



THE RECEPTION OF SPIRITUALISM. 135 



CHAPTEK XXV. 

THE RECEPTION OF SPIRITUALISM. 

A Vision.— June 30, 1853. 

I see a great city in the distance ; a great, busy place. 
I see one man coining from that city. He looks old, 
yet is tall and erect, and his hair is gray. Under his 
arm he has a roll of paper. He is coming on some im- 
portant business connected with this place. Some have 
gone out to meet him. To them he is unrolling his 
papers, and spreading them out before them. They 
have found something new there, and look incredulous. 
They shake their heads and turn away, yet their atten- 
tion is arrested. They crowd up and look at the papers. 
They read them, pass an opinion upon them, and turn 
away. He has shown them what they are, and now 
his part is done. He therefore turns back to that city, 
but he leaves the papers behind him. With his back 
toward me he walks slowly along, in deep meditation, 
and with his arms folded. He is alone, and no one 
notices him. They are too earnestly engaged looking 
at his papers. Now a great crowd has assembled 
around them, and it is very much excited by something 
wonderful they have found in them. 

Now they are passing them over their heads to their 
leaders, and spreading them before them, and asking 



138 THE FUTURE LIFK. 

their opinion. If they receive them favorably, the 
crowd are willing to, but they w r ant their sentiments 
first. I see some old men, with spectacles on, who are 
examining them. They go together in the corner of a 
large room, and pore over them. Some gather in 
groups and discuss them ; some turn away impatiently, 
and walk up and down, gravely considering them. 

Now I see some of the priests come up to examine 
them. One of them has found something objectionable. 
He declaims against it as unlawful. He says it will 
ruin the people ; it will not do to let the people get 
hold of such doctrines. He is very much excited. 

But another one of them is examining them all over 
very quietly. He has found something beautiful, and 
points it out to those standing near him. He says, 
That is a beautiful idea. It has never occurred to him 
before, and it is worth examining more closely. 

Now one of the priests is approaching, so puffed up 
with pride and self-conceit he won't look at the papers, 
but turns away with a sneer. 

Now some learned men are examining them. They 
say, Show us the philosophy of this thing, give us the 
laws which govern it, let us know the science of it. 

Now they have all got into a wrangle about it ; they 
dispute, and all talk together. 

The crowd who first received it seem to have dropped 
it, and it is among the educated classes. They disagree 
about it ; some of them want to keep it among them- 
selves, while the crowd are waiting their opinion, and 
as soon as it is given they will consent, with some ex- 
ceptions. 

Now the papers begin to look large. How they are 



TIIE-EECEFTTON OF SPIRITUALISM. 137 

spread out, and carried round, and commented on. 
Almost every one has a leaf or a copy. And spirits 
are standing by their side while they are reading them, 
though they can not see them. 

There is very great excitement among the intellectual 
classes. They have all got hold of them. 

And now approaches again the man who brought 
the papers. Crowds of people are going to him. They 
think he must know all about it. Some are inquiring 
of him, some are abusing him, calling him all sorts of 
names. Some shake hands with him, and yet are^afraid 
people shall see them do so. But they seem to think 
so much of him. Yet he wears the same calm expres- 
sion of countenance to all. He tells them there are the 
papers, just as they were given to him, and it is not his 
fault if they differ from their opinions. They must 
judge for themselves. 

I see one man approaching him, who is very dark 
and repelling. He threatens him. He would annihi ~ 
late him if he could, he talks so bitterly. Yet he sits 
calmly midst it all. Close by him stands a majestic 
spirit, who sustains and strengthens him. That causes 
him to look so firm. He loses none of his dignity or 
self-respect by any thing that dark one has said. He 
is neither awed nor overcome, but is sorrowful. I see 
the tear glisten in his eye, as he turns hopeless away. 

That dark man is surrounded by a gloomy cloud. J 
He has two or three others with him. He stands up 
higher than they; but they all feel the chilling influ- 
ence of tli at dark cloud, but not with such force and 
fury as it works on him. 

What a storm is raging around him who brought the 



138 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

papers ! There is such a dust and confusion around 
him that I can hardly see him. But he is not forsaken. 
There is something bright and shining right over him. 
The storm will not hurt him. He has six or seven 
people near him. How bad they feel ! They are cry- 
ing, and I see him no more, while the storm rages with 
more violence than ever. 

But ah ! now I see him again. There he is, right in 
the light ! The storm has passed away, and he looks 
happy and pleased. He seems strong and young. Just 
see how beautiful every thing is since the storm has 
gone ! how many green and beautiful things spring up 
all around him ! The air is clear and balmy. A great 
many old things have tumbled into ruins, and every 
thing has a renewed and youthful look. Those who 
were near him now look so rejoiced. The storm has 
damaged them some, too, but it has done them good- 
Their countenances look clearer and better. He has 
gone through a great deal, but he has become purer, 
and looks like an infant. He is so spiritual. He is 
the image of a good man : serene, joyful, and happy. 
He was suffering in a good cause, and see what good 
has come of it. 

Now all that excited crowd trouble him no more. 
He looks so beautiful, fresh, and new. The sun shines 
so brightly over him, and the birds sing so cheerfully 
around him. 

And now he passes from my sight, in a cloud of 
glowing light. And so, dear friends, good-night. 



THE DRUNKARD. 139 



CHAPTEE XXYI. 

THE DRUNKARD. 

From Mrs. Hernans, July 30, 1853. 

Gentle Friends : — In obedience to the dictates of 
wisdom and duty, which guide and control our move- 
ments here, I have just left the couch of a poor dying 
drunkard, with his bloated and diseased body still re- 
maining upon it, but his spirit accompanies me. For 
many years previous to his decease have I watched his 
downward course, and it has deeply grieved my spirit 
to see how he repelled all the kindly admonitions of his 
spirit-friends (which they whispered to his heart), and 
drove them far from him by his evil course, which 
brought him into communion with spirits who hurried 
him along by their influence, and exerted over his 
mind an unlimited sway, hurrying him down to the 
grave, that his spirit might mingle with theirs in dark- 
ness and misery. And having been sent on an errand 
of mercy to his poor departing spirit, I would tell you 
of his experience, as it may convey to your minds the 
true position of those who thus leave the body. I see 
many spirit-friends waiting in the distance; their gar- 
ments are white and pure, and their countenances 
would be beautiful, w r ere it not for the expression of 
deep sorrow which I see painted thereon, for I perceive 



140 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

they are near and dear relatives of this poor drunkard. 
But as light and darkness may not mingle, they can 
not approach him any more closely than they now are. 
But now, closer by him, appear more spirits, whose 
bearing and looks are very different from those which I 
have just described. They seem to exult with a sort of 
fiendish joy to see another companion added to their 
ranks. And now that the drunkard's spiritual sight is 
opened, and he sees the companions who have been so 
closely surrounding him daily and nightly by their 
loathsome presence, he turns away his head, he shuts 
his eyes, and shudders ! It is fearful for him to look 
upon them in their full deformity of character. And 
now he is gazing about him, and wondering where he 
shall turn. He verily seems a great stranger here ; he 
thinks of all the early lessons which were impressed 
upon his mind while a child ; lie remembers to have 
heard of a heaven and a hell; but still his ideas are 
very indistinct in regard to either, it having seemed 
more as a dream, or a lesson which he learned in child- 
hood, only to be forgotten and neglected in the years 
of manhood ! But now his heart dies within him, for 
he knows not where to turn. He wishes that heaven 
might be his destination, yet he is well aware of his 
unfitness to enter that bright place. And the other 
alternative seems to be that which causes him to shud- 
der from head to foot, for all that presents itself on the 
other side is coupled with the name of hell. Oh, 
frightful thought ! He thinks, " It can not be possible 
that I am to descend to that horrid place ! Would to 
God I had changed my ways before coming here." 
And his mind seems strangely clear, and his memory 



THE DKUNKAKD. 14:1 

becomes wonderfully renewed, instantaneously as it 
were — and he reviews in a moment the whole of his 
past life, and bitterly exclaiming, " Fool that I w r as, 
to have been so blind !" he seems to give way to dark 
despair. Having given vent to the anguish of his 
feelings, he raises himself up, and gazes around. And 
behold ! He is in a vast country. It is not the earth 
upon which he did live, but it bears a strong resem- 
blance to it in many points of view. It is peopled by 
many different characters, who ail appear to be interest- 
ed in their different occupations ; but still there seems 
to be no hand reached out to greet him. He would 
fain travel around and become acquainted; but some- 
thing seems to stay his footsteps. He now sees what it 
is ; he has been gazing on the pleasant side of the 
country, that which he would like to become an inhabi- 
tant of; but in turning himself around he discovers 
those repulsive, dusky persons who first annoyed him by 
their presence. He would fain turn away, but can 
not ; they seem to command him to come among them, 
and mingle with them, as one of themselves. And 
upon comparing himself with them, to his sorrow and 
surprise he sees that he resembles them in manner and 
appearance much more than those on the other side. 
And he is compelled to walk among them, and see, and 
feel their situation. On his speaking of his desire to go 
in the other direction, they tell him frith a derisive 
laugh that he is their guest, that they have long attend- 
ed on him and administered to his wants and passions 
— that they have enjoyed over again the intoxicating 
drink which he partook of so plentifully in their 
presence — that they are yet slaves to the appetite 



142 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

which had brought him there ; but without the same 
substantial means of gratifying it, and in seeing and 
aiding others they now took infinite delight. He was 
borne along as it seemed irresistibly, constantly coming 
in contact with those persons, in ways which were 
revolting to his nature, and still wishing to escape from 
the toils which seemed to encompass him. It appeared 
as though he had awaked from a long and painful dream, 
and that dream seemed to have begun when he was a 
child, and only to have ended with his life. And now the 
dark truth seemed surely about being realized. Oh, 
how unsightly and loathsome he appeared even to him- 
self! how misshapen and repulsive seemed his whole 
manner and bearing ! what a flood of darkness rolled 
over his soul as he sat and reflected ! " Surely," said 
he, " it would have been better had I never been born.' 3 
When a voice at his side spoke gently to him and 
replied: "It would have been better for thee, poor, 
misguided man, hadst thou but improved the talent 
which God implanted in thy soul, instead of giving 
reins to the ungoverned appetite of thy passions, which 
took away from thee the brightest and best days of thy' 
earthly career, and has made thee unfit for the society 
of the good and pure, and a loathsome object to thy- 
self, even among the vile. But look up, my brother 
nan, thy despair is not so deep, nor thy condemnation 
so lasting, but that the waters of mercy and love may 
flow into thy heart, and redeem thee from the sink of 
iniquity into which thou hast fallen. The society by 
which thou art surrounded is vile ; but it is of their own 
making, and they would 'fain keep thee, or any other 
spirit, among them, whose propensities chime in with 



THE DRUNKARD. 143 

theirs, to swell their ranks and augment their power of 
committing evil. Thou canst now see to what debasing 
society men subject themselves when following out only 
the animal instincts of their nature; thou canst now 
see why it is that some become so gross and repelling, 
that they appear as though a spark of goodness or the 
love of God had never entered their hearts. Oh ! such 
influences will repel all that is pure and good, and make 
of man but a mere animal, to wallow in the filth and 
mire, and then lie down and die, leaving naught behind 
to mark that he ever existed, but the memory of his 
evil doings ; and these live with him after he has left 
the earth, as well as on the earth. A new life is now 
before thee, and it depends upon thyself whether thou 
wilt remain here, and partake of the works which thou 
seest, or whether thou wilt begin earnestly *to labor, 
that thy mind, which is undeveloped as a child's, save 
in evil, may become filled with strength and knowledge, 
that thou mayest be able, and firm, to leave thy present 
company, if none will ascend with thee, for they still 
love the evil better than the good. And whenever thou 
wilt, thou mayest begin, humbly and patiently, and 
meekly, with the trust of a little child, to learn the 
path to heaven. Thy mind is now an unsightly scroll, 
having neither order nor conformity of action ; but if 
thou dost earnestly desire it, thou wilt be assisted by a 
spirit whose duty it will be to teach thee how to be- ; 
come an apt scholar in the simple and beautiful path 
of knowledge and happiness ; and unless thy mind is so 
inclined, my brother, unless thou dost make a mighty 
effort to hurl from thee and trample under foot those 
bad habits of thine, thou must still remain chained, as 



144 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

it were, to darkness and despair, to unliappiness and 
evil. The long years which were wasted by thee while 
on earth, must now be atoned for by thy increased la- 
bor and diligence ; and the bad examples and the much 
unliappiness which thou hast caused, must also be 
atoned for by making amends for such actions here to 
thy fellow-spirits. Thy labor concerns not thyself 
alone, but thy time must be divided equally, by doing 
good around thee ; by dispensing the light which thou 
mayest receive to others, and by much entreaty and 
persuasion endeavor to bring those with thee in whose 
condition thou art so able to sympathize, for many will 
listen to thy voice as coming up from the well of true 
repentance aud practical atonement for a life of error, 
for according to every evil done in the body shalt thou 
make atonement by doing that which is good and seemly 
in the sight of Heaven. And when thy heart has be- 
come purified of its corruptions and defilements, and 
when thou hast cast aside the dark coverings of thy 
worldly nature, and when the long-buried energies of 
the soul shall shine forth strong and brilliant amid the 
surrounding darkness, then shalt thou face the pure 
light of love. And holy joy shall flow into thy soul 
from the everlasting fountain of God's mercy ; and thy 
friends, whose love ever reached after thee (but could 
not approach thee, because of thy darkness and guilt), 
will draw near to thee with sweet smiles and loving 
words, and they will take thee by the hand, and they 
will lead thee away up that illuminated path, whose 
light so gloriously strikes on thy vision even in the 
distance ; and then Shalt thou in that place be greeted 
by those whose robes have become pure and spotless, 



THE DRUNKARD. 145 

and whose countenances have become dazzling with the 
light and the glory in which they abide, and they shall 
say nnto thee, ' Well done, good and faithful brother, for 
thy labor hath purified thee from the grossness of earth, 
and now thou mayest come up higher.' " 

And so, after long years of suffering and labor for 
past misdeeds, he fades from the sight, while ascending, 
by a light and pleasant path which leads up that eternal 
hill to which I can perceive no summit, but is ever 
ascending, ascending, until he is lost amid the glory of 
the stars. 



146 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTEE XXVII. 

THE ORGAN BOY. 
August, 1853. 

How chilly it is to-night ! I'm so hungry. I wonder 
if that fine lady wouldn't give me a piece of bread ! 
How cold it is, and how the wind blows ! If I could 
get into a corner somewhere. If I only was at home. 
This heavy old organ tires me so, dragging it about the 
streets all day. When I get home, I'm so tired I want 
to lay down and die. I don't know as I need play any 
longer. "No one notices me. They haven't given me 
a penny. I've traveled the streets since early dawn, 
and not a penny to buy a meal. I must go to my 
miserable home, to my dark hovel and bed of rags, 
with nothing but my organ for a pillow. It is very 
cheerless to lead such a life, and yet I love that old 
organ. When my father died, it was all ihe inherit- 
ance he left for his lonely son, his poor neglected boy, 
as he called me ; and he prayed that the light of pros- 
perity might shine on my head to light up my path^ 
his had been so dark and gloomy. And when he passed 
from earth he spoke of the prospect beyond the grave 
as a happy relief from all his sufferings and sorrow, his 
wants and wretchedness. Poor, dear father ! What a 
kind, affectionate heart he had ! He loved me, and 
besides me loved only one thing — this poor old organ. 



THE ORGAN BOY. 147 

Ever since I've been wandering, striving to catch the 
attention of lovers of sweet sounds bj the tones of the 
dear old organ. Sometimes they laugh at me, and 
sometimes they cuff me. Happy little children ! there 
are so few of them that notice me. I love it too, for 
it's the only companion I've had since he left. Its 
tones grow faint at times, as if it was holding com- 
munion with me when troubles grow thick upon me, 
when want stares me in the face, when I've not even a 
crust of bread to keep me from starving. It seemed as 
if its old tones pealed out in sympathy with my sor- 
rows. 

What a curious world this is ! See that splendid 
carnage roll along ! Its occupants seem very happy, 
regardless of the sufferings of others, and intent only 
on their own enjoyment. And when I look at them I 
think it may be right. I love all beautiful things. I 
love many things, so many I dare not tell what, but 
above all, good music. Sometimes when the church 
doors are open for the gay throng, I creep in and listen 
to the glorious notes pealed forth from that grand organ. 
I hide in a dark corner, and drink in the sweet sounds, 
and forget I am hungry and ragged, poor and forsaken. 
Then my soul seems so large, so tall, so straight. It 
goes up, up, forgetting every thing beneath, and carried 
far away by that sweet music. 

Then, by and by, the sexton finds me, and kicks me 
and cuffs me and turns me out, and I feel so wretched. 
It's a curious world. I love music as much as those 
grand people, though I am so ignorant and coarse ; yet 
I love many beautiful things, and love them so much. 

But I've such a shocking pain in my side, and a sharp 



148 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

and hollow cough. Sometimes I raise blood, and I'm 
too poor to employ a doctor. What shall I do when no 
longer able to walk the streets or creep into that grand 
building to hear that sweet music? I grow daily 
weaker and more feeble. 

[Here there was a pause, during which Mrs. S. went 
through the death scene. "When she began again to 
speak it was in a whisper.] 

It's very dark. Is it night ? I've been dreaming. I 
thought I heard father's voice calling me. There 'tis 
again. Now it's getting a little lighter. But my 
father can't be here ! 

What a curious-looking place is this! How strange ! 
I see some one yonder that looks like my father. That 
pain is all gone, and I don't cough any more. Where's 
the old organ? That's gone to. Where ami? Oh, 
father ! He says I've been dying, and am alive again 
in another world. It begins to look light. How well 
you do look! They use you here better, don't they! 
You are not a bit ragged. Do you get enough to eat ? 
Do they kick and cuff you about here ? Do they play 
on organs here? Yes, he says, as much as I like. It 
all looks so strange. I don't know which way to go. 
I should soon lose my way. Why, you look so diifer- 
entl I stand up straight, my lungs are sound; then 
you look so well, father, so clean and healthy. He is 
laughing at me, to think I am so surprised. 

This is a curious-looking spirit-world. He is going 
to take me away up, to strip me of every thing not in 
keeping with this place. He is going to give me new 
garments, and place me in a beautiful house where 
there is a grand organ to play on. I'm so happy ; I'm 



THE ORGAN BOY. 149 

glad I died. I'm so glad, I feel so well. The people 
all look so well, more alike than they did on earth ; 
they look pleasant, and don't kick me and cuff me. 
Well, I am going with yon, dear father ! I am so glad 
lie is so well situated. I don't see into it. I don't 
understand it. I've heard of heaven, but this ain't it ; 
but it's a very good place. He says, I've got to begin 
to learn what I ouodit to have learned on earth. He 
says my native talent for music being great, it never 
had sufficient unfolding while on earth, but now I shall 
be introduced to the society of the great musicians who 
have long since passed away, and I may become as 
accomplished as they, and in time become one of those 
harmonious spirits who shall wield a great power through 
the hearts of angels and men. 



150 THE FCTTUBE LIFE, 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE MAN OF EASE AND FASHION. 

Friday, September 16, 1853. 
This evening the circle met, and then, through Mrs. Sweet, it was 
said: — 

This is a jolly sort of a world any way, but I'm 
tired to death. I don't know what to do with myself. 
I've traveled all over the world, searched out every 
object of interest, gone into every nook and corner, 
and now I have returned home. It is a dull and tedious 
world to live in. I hate reading, poring over your dry, 
musty books; trashy novels are worse yet. I'm tired 
of smoking. My constitution is worn out, and I can't 
stand strong drink. There is nothing here fit to eat; 
confound 'em ! Why don't they have decent cooks 
here ? Nothing tastes good. "Well, it is a weary world. 
I wonder what a man was made for ! I've plenty of 
time and money, and my friends say, " Why don't you 
enjoy yourself?" 

Those devilish horses like to have broke my neck 
the other day. Well, I'm becoming more and more 
disgusted with the world every day. Then what'll 
become of a fellow when he dies ? Never mind, I 
ain't a going to die yet. 

They say I ought to take a wife ; that would be only 
a slight change. But women are such insipid toys, 



THE MAX OF EASE AND FASHION. 151 

men-trifling little dolls, they must be complimented 
and praised forever or they are pouting and looking so 
dismal. I shan't get married. I think more of my 
horses and dogs than of a wife, a damned sight. 

Where shall I travel to? I've been to Paris, and 
London, and all the big cities, and danced and waltzed 
and done every thing a fashionable young man should 
do, and a little more. 

I just happen to think that while I was in Italy, 
walking along one day quite discontented, in a secluded 
street, I happened to meet a grave-looking personage, 
and I thought I'd speak to him, to while away the 
time, it was so confounded dull. We got to talking 
earnestly. He questioned me a good deal. I told him 
I felt life a stale sort of matter, and I'd about as lief 
step out ; enjoyment had lost its meaning with me. 
Well, lie asked me if I had ever done any good with 
my money, any thing that would lead to a good end ? 
I said I thought I had, for I had spent a good deal in 
my day. He asked me what I was living for, and upon 
my soul I couldn't tell him. That set me to thinking 
mighty strong. He asked me if I had any ideas of a 
state after death ? Such questions always made me 
uncomfortable. Father's servants were never permitted 
to talk to his children of such things as death, or the 
soul after death. That subject was never introduced 
into our family. Any thing gloomy or unpleasant was 
strictly forbidden, as depriving us of part of the enjoy- 
ment of our lives as children. So if any of our friends 
or the servants were taken sick and died, it was only 
whispered in the family, and none allowed to speak of 
it openly. And when I went to church in the family 



152 THE FUTUKE LIFE, 

carriage, our minister preached us pleasant stories, 
glowing descriptions of heaven. He sometimes spoke 
of the wicked and their punishment ; but we knew 
nothing about such things; and didn't consider we had 
any thing to do with that part of the discourse. Then, 
sometimes, the minister rode home and dined with us. 
He would make a beautiful prayer; and on parting he 
would pat us on the head and tell us to obey our father 
and mother who were such good Christians, and one of 
these days, when we became men and women, we 
should follow their example and be a bright and. shining 
light to all around us. So, after a while, our parents 
died. I felt bad — very sorry ; I couldn't bear to look 
at 'em, and I didn't, nor think of 'em. We'd never 
been allowed to think of the dead, and so we forget 
'em soon as possible. 

Well, when I left college I started with a large for- 
tune, plenty of time, youth, and health, but not much 
of an education, for our teachers overlooked my faults, 
for I had wealthy parents, and they didn't like to be 
too severe, 

I've been wandering ever since from place to place in 
search of enjoyment. At first I did enjoy every thing 
vastly ; but really I don't know why, but I don't enjoy 
any thing now; I'm just tired of life, and that's all. 
Gambling was once a great source of enjoyment, a 
fierce sort of pleasure ; I used to feel almost frenzied 
sometimes while engaged in it, but it got to be an old 
thing, like every thing else. 

I really think I'm getting oat of health ; I'm not 
half so strong as I was. My appetite is poor ; the doc- 
tor says I must take exercise, and I'm too weak to do 



THE MAN OF KASK AMD FASHION. 153 

it, that's the fact of the matter. It jars my nerves. I 
feel best when reclining in an easy chair or soft settee. 
I drive out occasionally, but the air affects me consid- 
erably. I don't know of one resource to relieve the 
monotony of my dull and tasteless existence. I thought 
I had friends ; but the fools — they are not willing to sit 
with an invalid. They want excitement as I used to, 
and that's now distasteful to me. 

JSTow I'm all- alone, with that cross old nurse, and 
that stern old doctor with his nasty, poisonous drugs. 
I'm becoming very feeble. My lawyer visited me the 
other day. I think of making my will; I can hardly 
stand. My limbs are so trembling that theyrefuse to 
support me. 

I don't know who to leave my money to. I've plenty 
of poor relations ; but they'll only spend it. They are 
vulgar people, and don't know how to use it. I guess 
I'll leave it to the Club ; there are some noble fellows 
there, and they will appreciate it. How my eyesight 
fails me ! — yet I'm young — not yet forty. 

I don't see Why I should be so weak ; I haven't done 
any labor ; I've lived an easy- life. What has worn out 
my constitution ? The doctor says it is extreme de- 
bility, want of muscular energy. Strange one of my 
age should be w^orn out already ! 

Doctor, you know that old nurse the other day talked 
of sending for a minister. What could I do with one? 
I've never done any thing bad. I don't want to be 
shrived for my sins. If the minister could restore my 
lost health ! But he would only make long prayers, 
and ask me to remember his church in my will. I 
won't see 'em ; I'm gloomy enough now — if it's time 



154 TIIE FUTURE LIFE. 

for me to pass away, it's just as well without a min- 
ister as with. 

Here Mrs. S. went through the death-scene, during which he mut- 
tered a prayer for forgiveness of his sins, and then she added : — 

Is that my body ? Pagh ! I've left that ; it seems 
I've died. I've left that world and waked up in another. 
After all, I am right by my body here. I don't want 
to leave it. I don't know where to go; I'd like to 
get up above it if I could, but I can't. Strange ! I 
see people around it fixing it. They don't see me. 
Up above there is another kind of people. Down 
there they don't seem to be much. They're beckon- 
ing me to come up to them. I see people above me 
and I'll try to go to them ; but I seem very heavy, not 
adapted to walking on air; yet I'm afraid to go away 
from my body, for I don't know where I'm going. 
There is no sympathy or companionship below, and 
beyond all seems uncertainty. It's very disagreeable 
traveling when one takes one step and don't know 
w^here the next is going to be. I can't see clearly. 
As I leave my body in the distance I seem to be going 
into a different atmosphere ; still, it's not clear, not 
light — very dim and uncertain. They are still beck- 
oning to me. I should like to go there. 

Here are some people approaching me ; they're 
strangers I never saw before, very common-looking 
people. I think I won't speak to them. They're com- 
ing right up to me. They tell me they will lead me 
to the place prepared for me. "Very singular — a place 
prepared for me, and I know nothing about it ; I now 
remember what the minister used to say of the glories 



THE MAS' OF EASE AND FASHIOX. 155 

of he ay en. It's there they are going to lead me. I 
think they might send some more intelligent, genteel 
guides ; however, I presume I'll find it all right — and 
apartments furnished sumptuously, and servants per- 
fectly drilled, and the cooking of exquisite order. I 
really feel quite elated. I'll accept the services of 
these common people ; perhaps they couldn't spare 
their better servants to come such a distance. I de- 
serve a place in heaven I know. I never murdered 
nor robbed, but I did two or three things not quite 
right, but they overlooked such things on earth, and 
why won't they here ? Shall I meet that female here? 
But I've no idea she can enter such a place. The child 
died long ago ; and so it is quite forgotten now. Still 
it makes me feel unpleasant and hesitate : but among 
refined people it is only a youthful folly. I'll not 
trouble myself about it. 

Strange, those people don't address me. They seem 
waiting for me ; but I suppose they are diffident, so 
I'll speak first. " TTell, friends, are you waiting for 
me? Are you sent to conduct me to that beautiful 
place called heaven ?" They're not waiting for me. 
What does that mean? Have I been deceived? Is 
there no such place as heaven? No such beautiful 
place as the minister used to talk about ? Yes ; then 
why not do your duty, and lead me straight there? 
They tell me I must go another way. Are you not 
servants? No. And you are to be my companions? 
That's a mistake. Can you lead me to my friends 
who must be waiting to receive me? My father and 
mother must be inhabitants of heaven, for they were 
bright and shining Christians. My brothers, and sis- 



156 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

ters, and other relatives must be in this vast country 
somewhere. I'm not accustomed to such treatment as 
this. 

They stand and look at me, and make no reply ; 
strange, I don't understand it. Is it possible I am to 
have no other companion but these common, though 
coarse people, yet they look honest and friendly ; but I 
can't associate with them. Their manner of living 
must be so coarse. One asks me to listen to him. 
Very well, but speak quickly, for I'm weary of this 
long delay, of this gloomy place, which is not half so 
good as earth. 

lie tells me they are sent to in struct me. Prepos- 
terous ! These coarse people sent to teach me ! 

He tells me my life has been very worthless — devoid 
of usefulness to myself or my fellow-creatures. My 
course was altogether idle and profitless, and pregnant 
with sin and folly — a life which brought me down to 
this level here, and beneath the rudest and most unre- 
fined of God's creatures. Can this be so ? 

He tells me there is no heaven for me until I earn it 
by the sweat of my brow, that is, with the labor of 
mind, that not one step can I ascend only by the 
greatest amount of self-denial, of labor, of humility 
and love to all below me, and a feeling of equality, and 
a wish for instruction, that I may progress out of my 
ignorance and moral deformity. Oh ! can that be so ? 
Am I ignorant — indeed ignorant? 

He tells me 1 must begin as a little child, and learn 
the first lessons of wisdom ; must climb step by step, 
purifying and expanding my inner being, until I shall 
attain to the level of these minds, which are intelli- 



THE MAX OF EASE AND FASHION. 157 

gent and improved by the knowledge of this country. 
Oh ! what a dreadful weary task it must be ? How 
shall I begin ? I never was able to perform labor. It 
is not such labor, he says, that will be required of 
me, but of a kind that Vv T iil act on my spiritual body 
and my spirit itself. Now, he says, my spiritual body 
is unseemly and deformed by the imperfections of my 
former character. He says I could not mingle with 
those who are soaring above me, who look so light 
and clear in the distance. My body partakes of the 
color of my mind, and that is very dark and unseemly. 
How very new all this seems to me ! And I must be- 
gin to study, to labor, to live and mingle with these 
coarse people. I must begin down here. 

Yet they seem very kind, and reproach me with pity- 
ing looks; they take me by the hand — say they will 
help me. They tell me my mind is all a blank, and is 
capable of having beautiful characters of virtue, and 
love, and long-suffering, and gentle persuasion, and 
heavenly aspirations written on its tablets. Oh ! they 
weep for me and pity me ; can it be I deserve their 
pity ? Yes, their sympathizing tears seem so much 
more welcome to me now than the deceitful smiles of 
my earthly friends. Yes, I must cast aside the stub- 
born pride and feeling of superiority and dignity, so 
long the ruling characteristic of my being. I must 
humble myself, and begin on my humble knees to learn 
wisdom as a child. And now, when I signify my 
willingness to be taught by them, how kindly they 
speak to me! How could I think them so coarse I 
Their language is, to be sure, plain and simple, but 
pure in tone; their faces show an intelligence I did not 



158 THE FUTURE LIFE, 

before discover. There is about them a certain dignity, 
an air of self-possession, of firmness in all their move- 
ments, which seems to endow them with strength, to 
beautify their faces, to make their actions gentle, their 
words soft and kind. Oh, I was mistaken in their ap- 
pearance. Now I feel how superior they are to me; 
yet I do not judge 'em so much by appearance as by 
words and gestures, their actions, all their movements. 
What is it that makes these common -looking people 
seem so harmoniously blending with grace, and look so 
gentle and dignified even in their coarse apparel and in 
their rugged-looking country ? There is some mystery 
about it I don't understand. 

Now a female speaks to me, and her tones are soft 
and low. She says : " Brother, persevere ; begin your 
labor with a cheerful heart ; give away all the sins and 
follies of your past life by killing the remembrance of 
them here by good works ; and when you shall have 
become strong and manly in your development of mind ; 
when you shall have indeed become a true man, fit to 
take your place in the spheres of wisdom as an indi- 
vidual spirit, then shall great strength and power be 
given you ; then shall bright and shining attendants 
take you by the hand, and with heavenly instruction 
cause your face to shine with knowledge, and wisdom, 
and pure love. 

"Then shall you be fit to enter that celestial land 
called heaven, where all is pure and holy, where the 
very atmosphere is laden with the whispers of love and 
of joy from the hearts of angels, who, ranging in their 
eternal course through the illimitable space of worlds, 
are glorifying God in their songs of joy and holiness." 



THE SELF-SATISFIED. 159 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE SELF-SATISFIED. 

October 16, 1853. 
At a meeting of the circle, through Mrs. Sweet, the following mani- 
festation was made : — 

Friends, I would like to give you the first experience 
of a man in the spirit-world, who left the form satisfied 
with himself, satisfied with his prospects of heaven, 
satisfied that his life and actions had entitled him to the 
fairest seat in the land of gladness. He lived a smooth 
and pleasant life, in conformity with all the forms and 
ceremonies required of him by the church where he 
paid his weekly worship. He gave alms to the poor, 
assisted the needy, upheld Avith his means all societies 
which seemed to be of a goodly character. Thus he 
lived a pleasant and easy life, in anticipation of a pleas- 
ant and easy entrance into the heaven which his mind 
had dwelt upon as the incarnation of every thing beau- 
tiful and holy. 

Having passed the shadowy gates of death, he sup- 
posed he should be at once taken on high, and he stood 
waiting for some one to accompany him there. He 
was approached by one whose countenance showed 
deep thought, high resolves, and mighty attainments. 
By him he was welcomed and led upward, till they came 
to a strange-looking country, and he asked his compan- 



160 THE FUTUEE LIFE. 

ion why it was that it should look so uncultivated ? It 
seemed to be a beautiful land, abounding in hills and 
dales, and with diversity of scenery ; but there was a 
rough look, a want of cultivation apparent. Its in- 
habitants seemed honest and industrious, but they bore 
the same rough, unfinished appearance ; and he asked 
why every thing was so crude ? His companion said 
he would soon explain it, but that was to be his home 
— he would become an inhabitant there. " But," he 
added, " let us hasten on, I have much to show and tell 
you ; but when thou shalt return from our journey, 
thou wilt see the propriety of what I have said." 

So they continued their journey to countries smoother 
and more highly cultivated. 

After a great length of time apparently to the 
stranger — for he was made to see the distance with 
mortal senses — they arrived at a beautiful city. " Now, 
indeed," thought the stranger, " I have found heaven. 
"What a glorious place it is !" He was led around and 
through the city. What grandeur and sublimity every- 
where met his eye ! Hqw perfect and uniform every 
thing was ! Spirit-hands alone could form it. Behold, 
how beautiful the trees ! how inviting their shade! how 
grateful their color ! He begged to stop and lie down 
in that shade that he might enjoy the happiness that 
everywhere invited the weary traveler to repose of 
mind and body. But his companion led him on. And 
lie gazed up into the sky, where clear and beautiful 
seemed the pure vault studded with stars shining like 
gems of rare brilliancy. There was such an air of re- 
pose, of heavenly calm resting on all things, he fain 
would have tarried to enjoy its beauty. 



THE SELF SATISFIED. 161 

They arrived at a land where the broad and beautiful 
streams were dancing in the moonlight, and where there 
seemed to be sounds of music and of joy constantly 
wafted from their ripple. How gloriously bright was 
every thing there ! A soft, silvery atmosphere seemed 
to pervade it, clothing it in a mellow and heavenly 
beauty, yet bright and clear as though bathed in the 
light of the noonday sun. Presently his ear caught 
the sound of soft and gentle music. How softly it fell 
on his senses, and lulled his passions to rest; by its 
purity elevating his soul to a communion with worlds 
yet unknown beyond the stars, to a communion with 
something still higher, the great Fountain of purity 
and light, the Center of love, that great Divinity which 
fills the universe ! 

Then he indeed began to feel as though he was an 
unfit inhabitant for that lovely place. He was ap- 
proached by several spirits. They gazed kindly upon 
him, yet as if he was a stranger. They did not seem to 
recognize him as one of themselves, and he moved along 
with a lonely feeling. He noticed that all seemed 
intent on some purpose, or were busy in some errand 
of usefulness for their fellow-beings. He seemed the 
only idle one. He saw, also, that they were clothed in 
bright and flowing garments, which seemed to float 
around them as with a flood of light, but which did not 
encumber their progress, seeming to be a part of them- 
selves, and making up the form of the spirit. How ex- 
pressive were their looks, and with how many different 
emotions ! 

As the stranger passed along with his companion, he 
said to himself, " This is truly a more elevated heaven 



162 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

than ever my weak imagination could paint ; it is ten 
thousand times more beautiful than my soul ever con- 
ceived. Yet it is no place for me. I look so coarse, so 
unlike every one here, that my soul shrinks within 
itself, nor wishes to mingle where all seems to bear the 
impress of wisdom and elevation far beyond me. Can 
it be that I am not prepared for heaven? How sad it 
makes me feel ! I thought there was prepared for me 
a mansion in the heavens. But the more I gaze about 
me, the more I feel my unfitness to mingle with the 
bright throng — to inhabit this bright land. My soul 
seems very small. Its coarseness appalls me, and seems 
to shut me out from all these vast and glorious scenes. 
It can not surely be that those who inhabit here ever 
possessed souls so narrow as mine. They must be from 
other planets, from other worlds, where wisdom has 
developed them. Their countenances are so beautiful, 
so highly exalted in expression — their tones are so mild, 
and yet soft as music, they seem to penetrate my soul 
like angels' voices. Their proportions are so perfect, 
their motions so graceful and easy ! Oh ! take me 
back ! Take me away from this glorious world, with 
my dark, gross body, back to that rough country. I 
feel I belong no part or parcel with these glorious 
beings, whose beauty sheds light on all around. They 
can not mingle their beauty with my deformity. 
Their purity overshadows me, and mingles not with my 
grossness. Lead me away ; I am unfit for this place. 
I entered it with a proud and pleased and happy heart, 
for I had an idea that the beauties of heaven were to 
be enjoyed by me. How humbled I feel ! How unfit 
I know myself to be to tarry around these pure spirits V J 



THE SELF-SATISFIED. 163 

The spirit who had acted as his guide heard him in 
silence, and led him slowly back toward the country 
which was so rough and uncultivated, where, having 
arrived, the elder and more experienced spirit thus 
spake to his companion : — 

" My son — thou hast been permitted to see thyself as 
thou art. Thou canst judge, without being told, how 
suitable to thy spiritual development would be the 
country and companions thou hast been introduced 
to. Thou canst see to what a point of development 
thy spirit has reached in its upward aspirations after 
the pure and holy truth which comes from on high. 
Thy life and education, if they have not led thee into 
many great errors, have deprived thee of many great 
advantages. Thy soul has been merely taught to look 
up, as the heathen does to the Sun, to the Great Spirit, 
and ask protection, mercy, and forbearance. Thy 
prayer has been selfish in many respects. Thou hast 
prayed only for good to thyself, and to those who, as 
thou thought-t, were like thyself. Thou hast gone 
through with forms and ceremonies in obedience to 
the law of man. Such puny laws never emanated from 
a higher source. His laws rule the universe, are illim- 
itable, never ending, unceasing and glorious in all their 
searching and working. Beginning with time, they 
end but with eternity. But thy soul was taught to 
respect man's puerile laws, to give heed to their teach- 
ing, and thou shutst out from it the bright and glorious 
revelation which is open to the inquiring and earnest 
heart of every seeker, who reaches up to seek it at its 
fount. Man's spirit in all ages and nations hath ever 
mounted up, broken away from the conventionalities of 



184 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

customs and laws, and has been gladdened by showers 
and streams of glowing light and beaut}' from the great 
Fountain itself. Canst thou not see where thou wert a 
sluggard, sleeping on a bed of roses — and while others 
were pointing thy way to heaven, thou foundst it an 
easy way ? The good thou hast done shall be rewarded. 
N o good thing is overlooked by the great Father, for 
goodness brings its own reward. Dost thou not feel 
how much of heaven thou hast lost by leading a sensu- 
ous material life — the life of a happy, contented "Chris- 
tian, as you called it. The mind of man should never 
be contented to remain stationary, but be ever grasping 
for higher and nobler things, ever untiring, for thus it 
will be ever advancing to attain some new idea. And 
now, my son, I see that thou art fully awake to thy true 
position, and have learned a profitable lesson, and I see 
high and holy resolves budding forth within thee. Had 
thy mind been opened before, had some impulse been 
given thy soul, how it might have grown in wisdom ! 

" This country is like thyself and thy companions. 
It possesses every attribute of beauty and usefulness, 
yet how rough it seems? Thou perceivest it has not 
been made useful. Every thing is in its first crude 
unpolished state. Even so is thy heart. Thy spiritual 
body is in just such a position. All around you have 
been taught the same lesson, and whether they have 
profited by it thou canst tell by their progress. 

u And now thou mayest begin to develop the spiritual 
part of thy nature, w T hich is so gross as to disgust even 
thyself. The beautiful country shown thee is indeed a 
heaven to those who dwell there, because their lives, the 
growth and development of their spirits, have raised 



THE SELF-SATISFIED. 165 

them to that sphere, and thou, likewise, must labor and 
progress as they have done, until thou shalt attain to 
gifts which have become their heritage. 

" Think not the glories and joys of heaven are but 
formed to please the sensuous eye of man, to feed his 
appetite for ease and comfort. Think not that the life 
of the pure and good is spent only in praying and prais- 
ing God. Oh, no ! The beatified and purified spirit 
is one continual prayer, a never-ending adoration of the 
majesty of the Most High ; but there are other duties 
and objects. The immortal soul has other work than 
singing and praying forever. It has a grand labor to 
perform, which begins with its entrance to the spirit- 
world, carries it from one stage of progress and perfec- 
tion to another, until it becomes pure and beautiful, and 
divested of all earthly grossness and passion, and ap- 
proaches nearer the great Center of light and universal 
love. 

" Oh ! it is a mysterious and glorious life which the 
immortal spirit enters on when freed from its earthly. 
body !" 

And now, what grand and beautiful thoughts arose 
in the mind of that spirit ! He exclaimed : " Oh ! my 
life was indeed a short dream, even a dream without 
one pleasant vision, save a heaven of ease. But now I 
begin to realize I am indeed an immortal soul, one who, 
by his own efforts, must rise, learn, walk, labor, and 
work out his own salvation. I now feel that I have 
indeed an inheritance in the skies, incorruptible, which 
will be mine, but I must labor to attain it. 

" How pleasant will seem that labor, and how thank 
ful my heart feels even now, that I am not obliged to 



166 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

mingle with the dark and unprogressive minds that 
annoyed me on earth ! I have great duties to perform, 
great lessons to learn. Oh ! what a field there is before 
me — what a land of promise, glowing with immortal 
light, immortal reward, and a glorious certainty of at- 
taining what I labor for. Could I return, I would speak 
in tones of thunder to earth. I would bid them throw 
off the shackles which have so long bound them to 
earth as beasts of burden. I would bid them soar with 
me into realms of space and light, to be free and glad 
in their boundless liberty, and laugh with joy as little 
children, because of their new-found happiness. 

" Oh, heaven is near, and yet far away. It is in the 
human heart, where light from heaven flows, but the 
actual heaven is far distant from this gross and darkened 
body of sense and matter, as far off in its majesty and 
purity and glory from sight, as the farthest star the eye 
can see — the farthest flight of imagination. Purify 
yourselves then, prepare to enjoy that beautiful country, 
and your lives shall be an unending hymn of thankful- 
ness and joy to your Father in heaven." 



NATURAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE SOUL. 167 



CHAPTER XXX. 

NATURAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE SOUL. 

October 15, 1853. 

Chainless and free as the bird when sailing through 
air should be the human soul, that like the bird it may- 
alight in the deep valleys and mysterious places of 
nature, which are known but to few; #nd, then, having 
gazed upon the things beneath, it> may soar away 
beyond, and rest its weary but anxious wings upon the 
highest mountain, and there take in with a full sense 
of enjoyment, the glorious scene before it. But the 
soul of man, unlike the bird, is destined to become a 
seeker after the things concerning its immortal destiny, 
which his spirit may not always be able to grasp while 
here. And why should this be so ? Is the soul com- 
posed of materials like unto the body, liable to disor- 
ganization and decay? Is it only placed upon' earth to 
be governed and molded by like minds that have pre- . 
ceded its birth ? And must it be permitted to attain . 
just so high a stature and then remain stationary ? Or, \ 
is it composed of such gross and common-place mate- I 
rials as to be able to ascend no farther in its aspirations 
than the path that has been well marked out and 
trodden down by those who existed ages ago ? Or, are 
we to suppose that the great Deity, in his wisdom, and 



16S THE FUTUliE LIFE. 

in contradiction to his natural laws, poured out his 
spirit in other days more abundantly, and refined men's 
souls more quickly, than now? Have we, indeed, 
cultivated all the revealed wisdom which has been 
manifested since the beginning? And does the human 
race become grosser, and less refined, or spiritualized, 
in its development, both physically and mentally, than 
it did in former years ? If so, then would this wwld 
present a very different appearance. Instead of the 
active, progressive principle which is ever urging you 
onward and upward to excel each other in every thing, 
you would be a nation of sluggards, content to have 
your worship measured out to you, to be performed in 
proper quantities ben, like poor slaves, having per- 

formed your duties^ you would retire, feeling that this 
is all which is required of you as men and Christians, for 
the welfare of your immortal souls. 

But the enlightened mind now turns with uneasiness 
and disgust from such senseless ceremonies. It refuses 
to be led by one mind to a certain point, and then to be 
commanded to retire, saying " thus far shalt thou go 
and no farther" — but it will penetrate farther ? It will 
not rest in its spiritual darkness, gazing only upon the 
things which have become old, and stale, and weari- 
some, from continued repetition. It wants something 
more. It is becoming so refined in its progressive state 
of activity, that it reaches beyond the established rules, 
which hitherto have been its guide. 

And with this longing — this deep aspiration after a 
greater knowledge of the inner laws which control the 
being of man, begins an expansion — weak and fluttering 
at first — trembling as though afraid to tread on forbid- 



NATURAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE SOUL. 169 

den ground, and yet how eager becomes the soul, as 
every new glimpse of light flashes upon its astonished 
vision. And presently the soul becomes stronger — 
more firm in its purpose — more bold in its demands ; 
the flickering views which it has already received, now 
propel it with great rapidity. 

Xow, how beautiful appears that immortal soul, 
emerging from its narrow cell— its prison-like limits. 
It dares to look above its fellow-companions, and is 
often rebuked because of its temerity, but light becomes 
so sweet and satisfying to the expanding soul that it is 
not to b'e turned aside ? And behold the glorious land 
which is opened to its view. Xo narrow conceptions — 
no limited ideas — no bounds in thought can be set upon 
its progress now ; and, as a delighted child, it wanders 
hither and thither, constantly drinking deep thoughts 
from the fountain of love and harmony, because that 
soul now harmonizes with all the harmonious workings 
of nature around it — because the knee need not be 
bowed in shame and humility, to thank the great First 
Cause for his loving kindness. The heart is drawn out 
and expanded with a natural worship — a heartfelt 
prayer — because it realizes, in part, the glory of its 
Maker, and love upon which it exists ; and all the earth 
seems as a paradise to the untrammeled soul in its first 
joyous feeling of liberty and life. 

And the sky seems like one broad arch of glory, 
whereon is reflected the love of the Father upon his 
children, and naught seems dark or dreary but the 
human soul, for here wretchedness, vice, selfishness, 
and pride, go hand-in-hand to destroy their victims ; 
and here is seen the folly of men's laws ! 

8 



i 



170 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

Here may be seen the great point of man's develop- 
ment, when giving strict and impartial justice to his 
fellow-men — for here, one who had never gazed before, 
would think God forever smiled on one part of his 
children, and condemned the other part to endless 
misery and wretchedness, so different do their paths 
and pursuits appear. What a clashing and jarring of 
interests on one side, and want on the other ! The rich 
man desires to be rich still — and why should he not? 
for it insures him luxury and ease ; but the poor man 
desires to be rich — and why should he not? for his life 
seems one long day of toil, and his moments of r'est are 
scarce sufficient to recruit the wants of worn-out nature. 
He asks for- physical comfort;, spiritual consolation is 
not the food which he is daily working for ; he must 
needs drudge on, to supply the wants which will not 
be denied, so long as life is sustained ; and he is not in 
a natural position to follow out the great end and aim 
of his destiny. 

The people being so unequally divided as regards 
temporal advantages, must also continue, in like man- 
ner, unequally enlightened in a spiritual direction, 
until there are many vast changes in the state of society; 
and this will not be brought about until the eyes of 
those are opened widely to their position who enjoy 
time and opportunity to acquire new knowledge. And 
when some great souls have been waked up from their 
long dream of indolence and ease, to a right sense of 
their true responsibility, they will be up and doing. 
They will lay down great principles ; they will create 
a grand platform upon which these principles of equality 
and fraternity must be firmly established ; and they 



KATTJEAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE SOUL. 171 

will make man to see how degraded is his position, as 
an immortal soul — as an individual, whose birthright is 
as secure and indispensable to his heaven-born inherit- 
ance, as that of the reputed noblest in the land — first 
in a temporal, and then in a spiritual point of view. 
For, how can his spirit ever mount beyond its little 
abode here, while crushed by privation and want ? 
The temporal state of mankind is their greatest barrier 
against their spiritual development, and let them but 
be shown how they may improve their condition — or 
how their lives may become pleasanter and better — let 
them be made acquainted with the great laws of equal- 
ity, which should govern the human family, and they 
will join together, heart and hand, to advance the 
cause. They will soon lose their air and mien of ser- 
vants, and all will become, as brethren, standing on one 
broad platform, open alike to the interests of all ! And 
when their temporal condition is thus made more natu- 
ral, and the burdens of life are more lightly to be borne, 
then will the soul of the multitude ask for more refined 
elements. 

Then their spiritual nature will begin to assume its 
high prerogative ; and charity, and love, and justice, 
and mercy shall so expand their souls, that they will 
be able to walk in the paths of wisdom and usefulness, 
guiding and directing each other to become true men 
and women. 

Verily, the world assumes a very pleasant appear- 
ance, when viewed through glad and contented eyes. 
Only develop the human soul — only start it in the path 
of progression, that it may lay hold on truth wherever 
found — that it may become firm and strong, and then 



172 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

how rapidly it rises above its first lowly position ! 
How it is enabled to look down and contemplate men 
and things as they are, not as they should be, and it is 
forever seeking how it may aid others to travel in the 
same broad path, which has opened so many glorious 
visions of present enjoyment and future happiness to 
every seeker whose heart asks for light from on high. 

Then let those who have spiritual gifts use them, 
where spiritual gifts are needed — and those who have 
temporal gifts apply them also to the lifting up of their 
fellow-man, for verily, every one will have to giv r e an 
account of his talent, and every talent may be applied 
to a different use, all varied, but still useful and harmo- 
nious. 



VOLTAIRE AND WOLSEY. 173 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

YOLTAIEE AND WOLSEY. 

Thursday, October 27, 1353. 
This evening the spirits said : — 

We wish to try an experiment, that is, to impress 
both Judge Edmonds and Mrs. Sweet together, and to 
teach by a dialogue. 

The spirits will be Voltaire by Mrs. S., and Cardinal 
Wolsey by the Judge. 

After a little while — 

Voltaire said : What a vast revolution has taken 
place in the opinions of men since I was a resident of 
earth ! 

Wolsey. — Yes, the infidelity with which you were 
charged while here, has since then grown immensely 
among men. It is not now so pretentious as it was 
then, but it is deeper and wider spread, and, unless 
arrested, will sink mankind into deeper materialism 
than has been known for ages. 

Voltaire. — Infidelity to what and to whom ? to the 
law of man or of God ? Dost thou pretend to censure 
the infidelity of my soul, which could not bow to the 
narrow creeds and sectarian prejudices of the minds 
around me ? Dost thou say I was an infidel, because I 
dared to speak the immortal truth which beamed in 
upon my soul, darkened as it was with gross materi- 



174 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

ality? But still it was immortal truth, and possessed 
the very essence of the God-like divinity. My soul 
required a larger, a more extended plane of thought, a 
more unbounded field of knowledge than the teaching 
of man could supply. Tea, my darkened soul hun- 
gered for light. 

Wolsey. — I spoke of the infidelity with which you 
were charged, and, alas ! you know the charge yet lives 
in many minds. But I meant not to censure, but only 
to lament ; for with minds like yours, such unbelief as 
yours in the teachings of the day, material as they 
were and of man's invention, might w r ork no injury ; 
but the same cause which operated on your mind op- 
erated on others too weak and feeble to see the great 
results at which you arrived. And while with you 
infidelity may have been but a disbelief in the dogmas 
of man, in others it was a disbelief in the existence of 
a God and the eternal existence of man ; and it is that 
which has spread with such alarming prevalence 
throughout the world, that a vast majority of the civil- 
ized part of it, disgusted with the teachings which you 
repelled, have learned to doubt that there was any ex- 
istence for man but on this earth. And these dogmas 
have, day by day, been sinking man deeper and deeper 
into the love of this w T orld alone, and hence have been 
engendered selfishness and strife among men, until they 
are, indeed, unlike what they were designed to be by 
their great Creator. The cause — the cause of this is 
the great inquiry? for when that shall be ascertained, 
the remedy will be comparatively easy. What say 
you — for you know — is that cause ? 

Voltaire. — My opinions, as given to the world dur- 



VOLTAIRE ASD WOLSEY. 175 

ing my lifetime, are, indeed, tinctured with a spirit of 
bitterness and controversy; but while giving those 
opinions, please to remember that my mind was tor- 
tured, as it were, by an internal warfare. I looked 
upon mankind as being beneath me in intellect and 
discernment. I looked upon them as puppets, who 
might be led by any strong mind that might please to 
control them, and the spirit of combativeness was 
aroused within me that such elements should exist in 
the mind of man, and he still be called an immortal 
being. What ! such man a part of the divinity destined 
to exist forever I and yet how puny he seemed when 
compared with the great First Cause from which he 
pretended to have sprung ! 

I grant, my opinions may have done some injury in 
some cases, but I am convinced they did much more 
good. They aroused the souls of many men from 
their cringing, low position. They broke the trammels 
and let loose upon the wing of thought many an aspir- 
30ul. But my soul in its range became lost also. 
Instead of making the nice distinction which I might 
have done if the spirit part of my nature had been de- 
veloped as well as the material, I mixed them indiscrim- 
inately, and thus lost sight of the object I had in view, 
and thought in my battle with the world that there was 
no hereafter, while I wished only to be convinced that 
there surely was. But the spirit -in which I pursued 
my researches sent me back empty-handed and more 
strongly girded about with the infidelity of which you 
speak. And my life was spent, not so much in striving 
to defeat the good which might be done by the 
Christian religion, as in battling their foolish opinions 



176 THE FUTtJBE LIFE. 

and blind credulity. Even I, with all my infidelity, 
could, upon the basis of my belief, mount far above 
them, aY, beyond their very vision, and see the glorious 
world revealed in the face of nature and the wonderful 
revolutions of the earth. And I could be filled with a 
sense of awe and a feeling of unbounded liberty which 
they never experienced in their dark and cringing 
position. 

I confess I do not regret the spread of my works, for 
I see far greater causes of evil, and baleful effects 
flowing from those causes, had there been no opposing 
principles to work in the great mass of mankind. They 
would not all bow; they would not all be slaves: and 
if that which I advocated gave them one exalted 
thought and enabled them to penetrate into the realms 
of knowledge, did it riot open their eyes to see their 
true position ? !No, I do not regret to see my teachings, 
but I do regret that I lived so long on earth and 
became so little aware of what I might have been, of 
what I might have done, if I had been blessed with 
the light of Spiritualism, which has now dawned on the 
mind of man. 

Unbelieving and uncertain I entered the spirit- world, 
repelling with my very presence every approach of light 
which might have shone on my darkened vision. It was 
the material part of my nature which was developed on 
earth. My spirit part was lost in my wanderings for 
light. It was shut up in the material part as in an 
iron cage. Defiant and proud I entered the spirit- 
world, not knowing, not caring to know, the hereafter 
I had so strenuously fought against while in the body. 
But let me make this confession. There was ever in 



voltaike a>;d WOLSEY. In 

my soul a still small voice which would come from its 
deepest recesses, and would pierce away beyond the 
bounds of space and ask for light, and return dissatis- 
fied and weary. It was a constant striving of the 
desire to know and the determination not to know. So 
my entrance there could not have been gladsome. Had 
not the opinions which I had spent my whole intellect 
and energies in propagating all come to naught as 
regards man's immortality ? And I plainly saw if the 
soul was immortal, there must be a God, an immortal 
spirit, who ruled this vast and illimitable space wdiick 
surrounded me. 

How I traveled — incessantly traveled — and strove to 
convince myself that it was still a material world I 
lived on ! How my spirit wrestled with the truth 
which was crushing me with such force ! and I could 
not realize myself as a spirit, that I had left my mortal 
abode. There w^as none with whom I could claim 
companionship, for had I not denied every one of 
them's being immortal? There was no resting-place 
for me. I was ever restless, ever wandering and 
unsatisfied. My soul was dark and bitter within me, 
and I was as a maniac, without power to work out any 
design my mind might plan. 

I say I entered the portals of the spirit-world proud 
and defiant. I was led away from the habitations of 
spirits and was taken into mighty space. I was permit- 
ted to gaze on the wonderful works of the spirits' 
abodes. To me they seemed indeed wonderful ; and I 
was carried about with resistless force, and made to 
gaze until my soul became so filled with the sense of 
the magnificence and power which controlled these 

8* 



ITS • THE FUTUPvE LIFE. 

mighty wonders, that I fain would have hid myself away 
in the clefts of the rocks, but I could not do so. I 
yearned for companionship, and longed to tell some one, 
how I had been misled, not by others, but by my own 
wild imaginings. I began to realize how insignificant 
I was in that great world of immortal spirits, and, 
finally, having become so weary, so humiliated, my 
proud spirit thoroughly humbled, I was allowed to 
associate with some of the inhabitants. And now I 
began to realize the position I had occupied on earth, 
and to see that which I should occupy in the spirit- 
world. And it was not a pleasant one, my friend. 

A complete revolution, an entire change in my 
spirit-organization took place, and I became a delighted 
learner. My ideas being already expansive, how I 
progressed ! My soul felt the warm and glowing love 
of God to light it up, to help its immortal graspings, 
and rapidly I became associated with the great and the 
good and the developed in wisdom in the spirit-world. 
I saw how great had been my mistake, and I felt how 
great must be the reparation which I must make to 
atone for all which I have said or done or lived, which 
would lead men's minds away from the right path. 
Glorious with the light of celestial wisdom and beauty 
are the lessons which I have learned, and far beyond all 
my soul could ever have conceived in this world has 
been the unfolding of the boundless store-house of wis- 
dom and knowledge. 

I have lived to look upon my earthly existence as a 
bitter warfare with the world and with my own spirit- 
nature. I have deeply regretted the opinions which I 
advocated, which were the means of leading any astray ; 



Y0LTAIEE AXD WOLSEY. 179 

but I also feel deeply and fervently grateful to the all- 
wise Creator that I was made an instrument even of 
controversy in the Christian world, that thus men's 
minds might be opened to a spirit of inquiry and 
progression. 

The effects have not been so bad as the world believed 
them to be, but the causes which led to the many 
contentions and discussions will still exist until man's 
spirit has worked him out of the thralldom of blind 
opinion and blinder prejudice and unprogressive 
religion. The cause of Christianity must become 
infidel to its present opinions before the world can 
arrive at that state of free and enlightened wisdom 
which shall make every man a law unto himself. 

Wolsey. — I wonder not at your contempt of man- 
kind as they were when you lived on earth, for they 
and their mental condition were the legitimate product 
of more than a thousand years of religious domination, 
and the extreme to which you were led, though not 
unnatural, was to be lamented, and it is that extreme 
which now so widely pervades the whole civilized 
'fro rid. 

But the cause of it lies deeper than you have men- 
tioned. I saw it amono; the religionists with whom I 
associated ; I saw it in the cloister and in the desk, and 
most among those whose minds were most enlarged by 
education and culture. It was this. The dogmas 
taught as religion were at war with the aspirations of 
our own souls, and with the workings of the laws of 
God as we saw them all around us. If we sent a 
searching thought deep into the recesses of our own 
souls, we found there — innate and existent — what shall 



ISO THE FUTURE LIFE. 

I call it ? an aspiration, a belief, an instinctive feeling 
as it were, at war with that which we were taught as 
religion. If we sent our minds abroad, searching 
through the external universe, it returned to us laden 
with the conviction, that the operations and the laws of 
the Great First Cause were equally in conflict with it. 
And in proportion as we were able to make this internal 
or external search, as the mind by culture increased in 
the capacity to examine itself and the laws of nature 
and to understand them, we recognized, we felt the over- 
powering influence of the teachings thence derived, 
that the religion taught us could not, in many respects, 
be true. However earnestly we might have tried to 
believe, however obstinately we might have resolved 
that we would believe, however successful we might 
have thought ourselves in deceiving ourselves into the 
idea that we did believe, there was still lingering down 
deep in the inmost recesses of our souls the conviction 
that it was not so. 

While that was the condition of the cultivated and 
the educated in your day and mine, so now it is the 
condition of vastly greater numbers, because now 
knowledge is more generally diffused among men, and 
with that knowledge has come now, as it came then, 
the extreme into which you fell — the denial of a God 
and a future existence for man. How welcome to us 
would have been the revelations now making to man ! 
How welcome ought it now to be to man, for it guards 
him against that extreme, lifts him from the deep 
degradation of such unbelief, raises him from the mire 
of" a material existence only, and opens to him a knowl- 
edge which will make indeed a new heaven and a new 



VOLTAIRE AND W0LSEY. 181 

earth: a new heaven, because spirits fitted for it will 
enter there — a new earth, because man, while upon it, 
will learn and execute the great purpose of his existence 
there. With that knowledge, his existence there will 
not be as it was with us, in vain in reference to the 
future. 

It is indeed a happy day for mankind that is now 
dawning upon them, for they will be taught to feel and 
will feel, as you now do, the law of love, which has, to 
be sure, been often on the lips, but has found the heart 
too closely surrounded by materialism to be able to 
penetrate it. That barrier is now being destroyed. 
The great lav/ of love will enter there, and will show 
itself forth in greater regard for the happiness of each 
other, in the suppression of that selfishness which has 
so long cast its dark pall over man's life on earth, and 
will teach men, by the best of all possible lessons, that 
of experience, to know how much he will add to his 
happiness even on earth, as well as his happiness here- 
after. It will be no longer to him a mere sentiment 
written on the sand of the sea-shore, to be obliterated 
by tlie first wave which the storm of human passion 
may excite, but will be written on the heart in letters 
of fire, and will be indelible, because written with the 
finger of an Almighty hand. 

"We see this — we, who have lived on earth when it 
was darker and more selfish than now, because more 
ignorant of the high purposes of our creation ; but the 
years that have rolled on have brought to us the knowl- 
edge that this is indeed a great reality — that there is a 
God, and that we are destined to live with him forever. 

Oh, how our hearts have yearned to teach mankind 



1S3 THE FUTUKE LIFK. 

the lesson, the want of which we so deeply felt ; the 
absence of which made our entrance here so sad, and 
left its impress for eternity, because it arrested the 
progress which is our destiny ! How our hearts have 
yearned to open to them the reality of the holy com- 
munion of spirits, for we know that thus they too shall 
be elevated to a nearer approach to us, and through us 
to a nearer approach to their Creator ! How our 
hearts now yearn to enable them to see the light which 
is now pouring in such glorious floods upon the world 
to dispel the darkness which has so long brooded over 
the minds of men, and to light them to a way to a life 
eternal in its duration and its happiness. 



THE CYNIC. 1S3 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE CYNIC. 

Xovember, 10, 1S53. 

At a meeting of the circle, Mrs. Sweet was influenced. 
She began by saying : — 

u Weil, Judge, you are the queerest man yet. That 
tickles me amazingly. They tell me you have turned 
preacher, or teacher, which is the same thing — and I 
thought I would come and have a talk with vou about 
it." 

I asked, "Who are you?" "I am a man." "'What 
is your name ? " " It isn't Daniel Webster. But you 
would not know it, if I told you. 

" According to your mode of reckoning time, I have 
been in the spirit-world about fifty years. I originally 
lived among the people called Puritans, and was brought 
up to conform strictly with all their creeds and notions 
of religious freedom. I was brought up among them, 
but did not always think with them. In my youth I 
was a straight-laced, sober-minded, long-faced, church- 
going member of the community. I thought there was 
no safety for me, or for any one, beyond the pale of 
that particular sect. I was constantly praying and 
laboring with all my might to convince others of the 
happiness they might find in doing as I did. 



184 THE FTJTUEE LIFE. 

" Now, it so happened that I was obliged to leave 
the scenes of my youth, and live in a large city. There 
I was thrown into many different kinds of society, and 
urged to visit one expounder of the truth after another, 
as models of purity and perfection in his way. 

" When I had heard one, I was confident he could 
not be surpassed, till I tried the next ; and then my 
whole soul would chime in with the splendid talents 
and exalted purity of the last I heard ; and thus I went 
on, dazzled with one, delighted with another, charmed 
with a third, convinced by a fourth, confused by all, 
and not knowing which was the truth-teller, which was 
the liar, or which the one I ought to follow. It seemed 
as though my former ideas were all hashed up, and the 
new ones were so confused and contradictory that I 
knew not which way to turn. I thought where so 
many different teachers abounded, there must be some 
one right, but I was not able to select that one from 
among the many. 

" I became very uneasy, I, who had before been so 
calm and tranquil, and so well satisfied, walking in my 
straight and narrow path. But my path grew narrower 
and was blocked up after hearing such a variety of 
opinions, and finally disappeared from view when I 
began to separate my thoughts one from another, and 
get my ideas in shape. 

4i This state of mind lasted some time, creating a con- 
flict neither pleasant nor profitable to my peace. 

" At length I came to the conclusion that I v/ould 
discard every opinion and form my own, and I marked 
out my own course. I determined to see for myself 
whether there was within me any true,, unerring guide 



THE CYNIC. 185 

to lead me right; for I reasoned: If I am a spark of 
intelligence emanating from God, the Great Sun and 
Center of all Intelligence, is there not within me enough 
to show the light by which to travel back to the source 
whence I sprung? and I said, I'll try. I'll wait and 
seek, and if the Bible, which I have so much and de- 
voutly reverenced in early years, is not a vain and 
empty fable, I will knock, and it will be opened to me. 
I was not mistaken ; gradually light broke in on my 
firm-bound soul. It was so new and strange that it 
frightened me, even though coming in little flashes. I 
would sometimes start back affrighted when receiving 
an answer to my inmost thoughts, and I was led to 
ponder deeply and alone. l v 7ot alone, as I now find, 
for I had bright and glorious companions, unseen by me, 
who were trying to whisper into my dull and leaden - 
hued mind thoughts of wisdom to enlighten and assist 
me in my earnest researches. And now, as I began 
slowly to emerge from the confines of my former resting- 
place, I encountered many enemies ; some called me 
hypocrite, some heretic, some atheist, some crazy. But 
I stood unmoved, for the hope of eternal life, which had 
been nigh being extinguished in my breast, had become 
firm and strong. And when men opposed me with 
stale arguments borrowed from others' minds, how I 
despised them, for I leaned on myself. How I looked 
inwardly and felt there was that in me which had taken 
hold on eternal life. No bandying of words, no ridicule 
or opposition, could turn me aside from the path I had 
chosen for myself, for I felt that the energies of my soul 
had beer, called forth in its conflicts, and I was daily 



186 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

growing stronger, and being sustained with more than 
human power. 

"When I thus rose up against opposition, and in 
spite of prejudice asserted the truth as I felt it in ine, 
they were ready to stone me, and said I was mad, be- 
cause I had dared to think for myself and speak for 
myself. Still I lived on in my madness, and most 
happy it made me, and not only me, but some few 
brave hearts who through my instrumentality had been 
brought to feel the truth as well as enjoy the blessing 
of thinking for themselves. 

" Having lived near in accordance with the ideas I 
professed to believe, I laid my body down, and my 
spirit took its flight to its next and better habitation. 
Oh, well I remember as my remains were borne to the 
grave, how the by-standers said to each other, 'The 
teacher is dead — the man who saw and knew what no 
one else ever heard of — he's dead, and now has not 
even a minister to breathe a prayer over his remains. 
Fit burial for such as laughed to scorn the teachings of 
the holy men of God, who by their zeal and knowledge 
are redeeming mankind.' I was not mourned — not 
regretted — I saw it all, but it did not grieve me. I 
had made myself a mark to be shot at, and had made 
myself obnoxious to all who professed to be truth-loving 
Christians, not by my opinions so much as for the great 
and unusual liberty I had taken, of thinking for myself 
and drawing my own conclusions. But my entrance 
into the spirit-world was remarkably pleasant and joy- 
ous. I was welcomed, by many who had been consid- 
ered while in this world as lost sheep, as having no 
claim on eternal life, because they had no name in the 



THE CYNIC. 187 

Christian Church which would lead to eternal life, as 
was supposed. 

" It would be vain to try to tell you of my astonish- 
ment and gratification, and also the deep awe with 
which my soul was filled, when I beheld how T closely 
connected with the lower world are the inhabitants of 
the next sphere above us. Why, I saw innumerable 
spirits constantly gliding through the air and approach- 
ing persons on earth, holding communion with them 
in tones that only their hearts could hear. I now saw 
how the secrets of knowledge had been given to me, 
and how I had been able to take a fast hold on eternal 
life, while surrounded and advised and strengthened 
and led on by wise spirits, when I had once taken my- 
self from under the control of mortal minds. I saw 
how unceasing and untiring were the efforts to enlight- 
en and guide mortals, in every class and denomination, 
and trying to approach near to them, when not repelled 
by the grossness of their material nature. I saw how 
they strengthened good resolutions, how they purified 
and elevated man, unconsciously to himself, and how 
their ennobling influence was surrounding his daily 
path. 

" Think not that if left alone in this gross material 
form, and in this material world, unaided by any spirit- 
influence, you would be able to hold communion with 
bright and glorious spirits. 

" Oh, what a beautifully descending plane of spirits 
there, between the higher regions and the lower earth ! 
They who mingle continually in our midst are shrouded 
from us in a veil of dark and shadowy material exist- 
ence, which obscures from them the brightness of the 



188 THE FUTURE LITE. 

spheres ; bat as they ascend where the atmosphere is 
pure and spiritual in its light, how gradually and 
distinctly they change in color, like stars in the fir- 
mament! 

"I saw them mingling with all classes here, and 
many dark spirits too. It made me sad and sorrow- 
ful to see so many ignorant and malicious wanderers, 
who were invisible to mortal eye, mingling their evil 
influences with their benighted brothers of earth. I 
saw where bright spirits were repelled : it was by the 
closer companionship which the dark ones maintained 
with the individual who thus repulsed the bright visit- 
ant, who would fain advise him and tear him away 
from his dark associate. This grieved me, and I turned 
away from earth and began the exploration of my new 
home. Every step I took I felt myself growing 
stronger and more free, and I felt myself filled with a 
great gust of gladness to find myself surrounded by 
such beautiful companions. I was very unlike them 
in my outer garb, but still my heart claimed compan- 
ionship with their spirits in its love. I gradually felt 
the material part of my being giving way as I became 
more and more filled with the invigorating influence 
of the atmosphere surrounding me. Surrounding each 
spirit w^as a soft and lovely halo of light which reflected 
on me ; and the combativeness of my nature, which 
had displayed itself so strikingly in the human form, 
melted away under the influence of their love and their 
gentle instructions. My life had been a rugged, and 
in many respects a stormy one. I had given way 
much to the animal passions of my nature; I had not 
exercised as much as I should, the law of love, and for- 



THE CYNIC. 189 

bearance, and kindness. How deeply I now regretted 
the want of them. How coarse and ungainly my attri- 
butes made me seem, amid so many gentle and loving 
beings ! so I began to shake them off, to labor away 
those grosser and uncurbed portions of my character ; 
and, thanks to the loving-kindness which ever sur- 
rounded and aided me, I succeeded in effacing, one by 
one, the crudities of my former existence. 

" I am but a scholar yet, and in a low class. The 
characteristics which marked my former life have not 
entirely left me. I am everywhere known by my gruff 
and uncivil manner. But enough of that. I am pre- 
paring myself for a great work in future, that is preg- 
nant with good to honest and earnest inquirers, and 
with great joy to me. If by my assistance I can aid 
one soul in its search for truth, I shall make one step 
toward the brightness above me. 

" How little you know of the brightness of heaven ! 
How gross to your senses do you make the purity of the 
spheres of celestial joy appear! And why is this? 
Because of your material nature ; because of your 
imaginings being tinged with the grossness of your 
bodies ; because your spiritual parts are so undeveloped 
you can not conceive of any thing so pure and subli- 
mated as the essence of the atmosphere in which 
spirits live. 

" But as you lose sight of material things in connec- 
tion with those which are spiritual, you will be carried 
above and beyond the limits of this earth, and your 
spirits be able to taste of the glories we speak of when 
telling you of heaven and its purity; and your souls 
may on this earth be so elevated and purified, that you 



190 THE FtTTUKE LTFE. 

may ascend far beyond the stars, and revel high up in 
the light which will be poured in upon your being 
when it shall have loosened itself from the fetters of 
earth, so as to be placed in uninterrupted connection 
with the messengers of Love and Light who only exist 
when in that light. 

"My errand here, Judge, this evening, was to tell 
you how much I admired your course, how glad I am 
to think you are independent enough to think for your- 
self, and speak what you believe to be true. I have 
sympathized with you in many of your feelings. My 
course resembled yours, though my nature was not cast 
in so fine a mold. Yet it was led to see its early errors : 
and when the truth was made apparent to me, though 
not so pleasingly as to you, I held on to it, and the hold 
which I took was so firm and strong that it carried me 
clear out of this world into the world of spirits ; and 
when I arrived there, the most beautiful of it all was, 
that I had not been mistaken when I learned to trust 
the immortal promptings of my own spirit. 

" I am but a blunt old man yet. I like to talk as I 
used to. My speech was never very pleasant. My 
nature was ever blunt but truthful, and I leave you to- 
night with the earnest prayer, that the Father of Love 
may expand and beautify every soul here present, and 
make it strong in the labor of redeeming man from 
error, and raising him up to the dignity of his manhood, ' 
showing him the beautiful light ever shining on his 
footsteps, leading him up, up, far up to his native home, 
his birthright above the skies." 

Here ended the communication, and on a brief con- 
versation with him we learned he died in England fifty 



THE CYJSTIC. 191 

years ago, at the age of ninety ; that during his life he 
published a book called " The Memoirs of Sir John 
Pensley," which was his name ; that he left no children, 
and that his wife died ten years before him, &c. 



192 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 



THE SECOND BIRTH. 



November 14, 1853. 
Mrs. Sweet was influenced, and spoke as follows — the communication 
purporting to be from Swedenborg: — 

The human soul, when first awakened from the slumber 
of its material nature to a consciousness of its spiritual 
being, presents a strange medley of conflicts and changes 
in its transition state. Where the material consciousness 
of the individual has so long retained the ascendency, it 
has become vested with a strong authority, as it were, 
and a mighty struggle oftentimes ensues between the two 
opposites ; and when the spiritual germ of our nature first 
begins to develop itself, it is so mingled and interwoven 
with our material being, that we are at a loss to dis- 
tinguish the difference between the principles which 
sway us, and often stand trembling almost (feeling so 
^un certain, as though we stood upon the edge of a preci- 
pice), not knowing into what depths of insecurity our 
plunge may lead. But gradually, in some, and more 
rapid in others, the spiritual nature assumes its empire, 
and we then see things as we never saw them before. 

There is a new and strong principle takes root and 
grows up within the soul, constantly strengthening and 
sustaining the feeble and fluttering efforts which the 
spirit is making to burst from out the bondage in which 



THE SECOND BIRTH. 193 

it has been held for so great a length of time. And 
when the soul becomes able to rise so far beyond its 
accustomed position as to look abroad upon the won- 
ders everywhere held out to its view, it becomes filled 
with strong and beautiful emotions ; and the vastness 
and wisdom of the Creator's works are so impressed 
upon that soul at times, in all their magnificence and 
glory, that it fain would shrink within its own insignifi- 
cance, that it would shrink back again to its former 
position. For, to the freed soul, its upward flights 
are grand and glorious, in comparison with the narrow 
and time -trodden road in which it before had wan- 
dered. IS'o wonder if a fluttering and trembling should 
seize npen it while learning its first lessons of joyous 
freedom. 

The soul that has entered upon this path, has indeed 
undergone a mighty change — a change for the future 
which has not to be repeated in the future, for this 
change is a passing from death unto life, it is the birth 
of the spirit while yet in its earthly temple ; and as it 
expands in strength and wisdom, it has indeed passed 
through the bitterness of death, which is not to be expe- 
rienced ever again in the form. 

Oh, the spirit after undergoing this first change from 
dark to light, is enabled to look beyond with a bright 
and peaceful hope in the blest exchange which awaits 
him. He but looks forward to the slumber in which he 
will experience a forgetfulness of the ills attendant 
on the body, and will awaken to behold 'the glorious 
reality of all his former dreamings and imaginings. 

Man's soul, after having become thus quickened, feels 
a consciousness within himself of his hold upon eternal 




194 THE FDTUF.E LIFE. 

life. He feels Lis spirit going out into the vast regions 
of infinite space, and endeavors to grasp an atom of 
knowledge wherever he may find it. He is no longer 
willing to grovel on earth, and taste of earthly pleasures 
and earthly hopes, and to be led by the teachings of 
those whose inspirations have become dim in the awak- 
ening glory of this new era. But his soul pants for 
something more — something higher — something better 
— more heartfelt — more tangible than he has yet become 
acquainted with, and he is now ever yearning— ever 
soaring upward, for there has been established an affin- 
ity between the soul of that individual and the principle 
from which he emanated. The connection beween the 
life-giving principle and the germ has become more 
apparent; and now he is ever drawn upward in his 
aspirations after truth and purity ; and as that soul be- 
comes identified with its spirit-affinities, the material 
loses much of its authority to act upon its spirit-being. 
He now regards it as a covering for material use, to be 
thrown aside wben no longer needed to contain his spirit 
when on its earthly mission ; and truth, virtue, and 
love become a daily inspiration of his soul. This 
spirit becomes so saturated and bathed in the light of 
wisdom, that he indeed feels the immortal part of his 
nature has become so quickened and vitalized, that he 
needs but to look within to find an answer to his inner- 
most cravings after the knowledge which places him 
upon a firm and imperishable basis, as regards his eter- 
nal and ultimate destiny. The external elements may 
be in confusion and dissension, and the surface of all 
other circumstances may become ruffled and chaotic in 
their dark dismay ; but the soul that has thus been able 



THE SECOND BIKTH. 195 

to take hold upon his high prerogatives and claim his 
inheritance, by building it up and beautifying it while 
here for his future residence, may indeed look away 
and beyond the scenes of earth, and feel that while he 
lias lived upon its surface as an obedient servant to his 
better intuitions, inasmuch as he could plainly perceive 
them, is like the bird on wing, who, when the first note 
of welcome from his mate salutes his ear, is ever ready 
to soar away and meet with joy his waiting companion ; 
for there is a beautiful reunion which takes place 
between the freed spirit of man and his affinities who 
have long guided his footsteps on earth, and whom he 
now may behold face to face, and with them travel 
onward to behold the eternal mysteries of the glorious 
unfolding of the wisdom of God. 



196 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

THE SLAVE. 

December 26, 1853. 
This evening through Mrs. Sweet it was said : — 

You liave been talking of flowers and love, and 
beauty and joy, this evening, and perchance you think 
there is naught else than such in the spirit-world. Oh ! 
if such is your idea, a poor wretch such as I must be most 
unwelcome, who has come to divest your minds of all 
these beautiful fancies in my own sad history. I was 
born amid slavery and wretchedness, fed on food which 
was not even offered to the dogs that belonged to my 
master, and I was daily lashed — my poor flesh laid 
open to the bone — to please the passionate whim of a 
brutal owner. No! I had no comfort, save when I had 
arrived at manhood, they gave me a companion. How 
tenderly I loved her, she and the little one ! But they 
tore her away from my arms after scourging her with 
many stripes ; and my innocent babe was taken from 
me, and I left alone in my misery to grovel on the 
earth, to groan aloud in my agony, and then to be 
lashed for so doing. 

I wished to die, for I knew not how to pray ; never 
knew the name of God, save in execrations, which even 
now chill my life-blood within my heart. And all of 
kindness and love in my heart turned to gall and 



THE SLAVE. 107 

bitterness, and I, who would have been thankful to 
labor for one kind word — I became a lying, wicked, 
thieving, selfish slave. They cultivated naught but my 
bad propensities, and those they strengthened, and 
brought forth every thing black and repulsive which 
my nature was capable of producing. 

I feared no higher power than that which had bought 
and paid for my vile and loathsome body, and soul 
too, as it seemed to me, and all I cared for was death ; 
the forgetfulness of the grave was all my spirit groaned 
for in its hour of agony. 

At one time in one of my passions, raised by the 
violence of my master, I struck him down. It seemed 
as if a devil possessed me. I must tread upon the body 
of him who had spurned me as a worm. But now the 
worm turned, and his cruel and cowardly soul was 
forced to leave its body; and I was satisfied. My soul 
had drank its vengeance, and I cared not what became 
of me. 

And so they beat me to death! What a happy re- 
lease was that! They could no longer bruise my spirit, 
though they might cast my body to the crows — and I 
was free ! Oh, what a gladsome hour was that when I 
first beheld myself free ! Strange people came and 
spoke to me — spoke kindly — asked if I was not glad to 
be released from slavery of body, and told me I should 
now be released from the dark slavery of ignorance and 
sin of mind. I did not understand them. I only felt I 
was free from the power of the oppressor, and like a bird 
which would fain soar, but can not because of weakness. 

I saw such a vast space around me, above and be- 
neath me, and they led me away, away, far into a large 



198 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

city, and there 1 beheld thousands, who, it seemed, had 
once resembled me in appearance. They looked so hap- 
py, and labored so briskly, and sang so cheerfully, that 
I felt as if I must be in some good and beautiful place 
which had never been heard of. Heaven I had heard 
of, but knew not what it meant. I associated it with 
something good and pretty, and these people, I thought, 
must be in heaven, for every thing looked so different 
from any thing I had seen before. Their color was 
different ; they had been of the same hue that I had 
once been, but their faces were so white and shining. 
Some looked light, and some darker; and I noticed 
that those who seemed to be the wisest among them 
had lost almost all traces of their former dark appear- 
ance ; but still they were of the same race as myself. 
They told me they were all here being prepared to in- 
habit a country peculiar to themselves, where they 
should in turn become educated, and fitted for higher 
duties, and then ascend to a more distant country. 
They were of a race of people whose mental develop- 
ment had been of peculiar growth, and they were but 
passing through a lower existence while inhabiting this 
earth, and would, in the next sphere, become kings 
and masters, so to speak, in their proper sphere of 
mental enlightenment. 

You ask what I did when I first entered that place? 
People took me and showed me how to labor — taught 
me the true use, value, and dignity of labor; and hav- 
ing taken away all my old and bitter prejudices against 
a life of labor, they cultivated my mind, and taught me, 
in simple and easy lessons, to love the great, good God 
from whom my spirit had sprung. When they told me 



THE SL^YE. 199 

of his goodness and mercy, my heart filled with love 
inexpressible — so filled that there was no room for any 
of the bad passions which had caused me to become 
such a wretch. And how earnestly I labored, with 
both soul and body, that I might become as one of those 
guileless and benevolent beings who daily taught me 
cuch lessons of love and kindness. When they spoke 
to me of earth, I shuddered, and feared they would 
send me back ; and often have I knelt, and with tears 
implored them not to send me back to wretched earth 
again. There was nothing to desire there. I had no 
wish to return again to the scene of my former suf- 
ferings ; but I often wept as I thought of my wife and 
little one. I knew she was still in the hard, cold world, 
and I prayed them to go to earth and bring to me her 
and the little one I loved. 

They told me my desires could not be granted; I 
must wait until, in the course of nature, or through the 
forcing of nature by cruelty, they would be able to 
make their entrance as I had. And gradually I began to 
see things in a new light. My mind began to expand ; 
I stood erect, and gazed on the works of God, and my 
heart filled with awe and love. 

Notwithstanding the many beautiful things which I 
daily saw, my mind would still turn back to earth ; and 
when I thought who had misused and ill-treated me, 
there were still revengeful feelings and bitter hate 
toward the authors of my misery. The spirits w T ho 
taught me lessons of love and truth told me these feel- 
ings were wrong — that I could never become pure and 
good, or a fit inhabitant of those blest spheres of beauty, 
unless I forgave those who had been my former ene- 



200 Tilt! FUTURE LIFE. 

mies. But it seemed an impossibility, and as if I only 
wanted to be avenged, and then I should be ready to 
feel no other emotions than those of joy and happiness. 
A kind and lovely spirit came to me, and led me to a 
dreary, dismal place, and there showed me the spirit of 
my tormentor. Oh, how miserable he looked S gnash- 
ing his teeth with fury and baffled rage ; laying about 
him and striving to lash poor creatures around him ; 
but the strokes only fell on empty air. How he howled 
and yelled, and would not hear one word from a grave- 
looking person who stood near, trying to reason with 
him on his folly and madness. Oh, I looked upon him 
who had formerly so severely punished me, and my 
soul was tilled with sadness! I could not wish a greater 
revenge than this. And then the spirit who had 
brought me there asked me if it was pleasant — if I 
loved to see that wretched man in such suffering and 
misery — if I loved to see others suffering ten thousand- 
fold the agony I had undergone? — for this was greater 
punishment than mine, and I felt how deeply I merited 
this gentle rebuke.; and then I turned and fell on my 
knees, and begged that spirit to intercede for my tor- 
mentor. His state was so much worse than mine, how- 
could I help pitying him ! 

He led me back to the place we had come from, and 
said to me, "My son, thou hast shown a spirit of repent- 
ance — a sorrow for the sufferings of thy tormentor, and 
the work of regeneration has begun. And now thou 
shalt be able to travel upward rapidly when thy spirit 
becomes filled with love and forgiveness to thy former 
enemy, for none are pure in spirit — none can be pro- 
gressed in love where feelings of revenge find a resting- 



THE SLAYK. 201 

place. No selfishness or anger must reside in the heart 
which gazes heavenward." And a mighty calm came 
over my hitherto troubled spirit — not tossed like waves, 
first agitated by love and gladness, and then by revenge 
and wickedness. 

Oh, no ! these had all passed away, and now how 
earnestly I hourly prayed that the sufferings, of my 
tormentor might cease. He was to be pitied while I 
was in such a lovely place — a heaven, it seemed to me, 
'twas so green, the flowers so fragrant, labor so sweet 
and pleasant. Js"o harsh words — no heavy blows, but 
all accents of loving-kindness, gentle encouragement, and 
peaceful rest. And when my soul needed instruction, 
then would some gentle being draw near and point up- 
ward, and lead me away where I might gaze on the 
worlds far off which were to be my future dwelling, 
when I should become developed in wisdom and knowl- 
edge so as to be a fit inhabitant of that lovely place. 
They told me I should there find those whose minds 
would assimilate Yy-ith my own — those who had long 
before me died on earth and emerged from darkness 
and ignorance and bondage worse than even I had 
conceived of, and had entered the spirit-world with the 
same feelings which I had, but had been led on and 
ta-ught the love of God, and had become bright and 
pure, because divested of all their grossness and mate- 
riality. And when they had become pure in their 
spiritual light, they had soared away from this lower 
abode where I now dwell. 

The thought was beautiful. It seemed too great a 
joy to believe that a poor, ignorant slave like me, who 
had scarcely heard of the great and glorious God, and 

9* 



202 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

of all these beautiful worlds which were rolling around 
me in the vast firmament, should, after having com- 
mitted a dreadful crime, and entered the spirit- world 
with all my sins and ignorance upon me, be permitted 
to see so much of heaven, and learn the mercy of God 
so soon. And they told me that I should be permitted 
to inhabit a country where there were none but those 
of my race and kindred, if I w r as so minded. They told 
me I need not be a slave or servant here, but might 
mingle with the best and purest as my soul advanced. 
Oh! there is no such thing as feeling lost or deserted 
in the spheres where I now dwell. Every one has 
kindred and friends — every one has home and joys 
greater than earth ever beheld. And if a poor, sinful 
wretch like me can be so happy in my low estate, what 
must be the state of the pure soul when it leaves the 
body ! For if the earthly lite of the poor slave is one 
of suffering and bondage, if his soul and body are bought 
and sold here, it does not reach beyond the grave. No, 
no ! thank God ! the poor slave's soul is free as air from 
the bondage of man when it leaves the body ; and it is 
only the chains of ignorance and darkness which bind 
it here. But gentle spirits come in crowds and take 
him by the hand, as brothers and sisters, and wipe away 
his tears, and lead him wo to that heaven where naught 
can dwell but goodness and love. 

I am very thankful for this privilege of coming to 
you. I had to speak slowly, and they told me what to 
say, as I have said it. I have to-night taken one step 
higher in my heavenly journey ; for have I not come 
back to earth and given a lesson of encouragement for 
my poor fellow-slaves. Thanks, and good night ! 



THE QUEEN. 203 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

TEE Q T E E X . 

January 9, 1854 
This evening a spirit came, and taking possession of the medium, she 
knelt in our midst and went through the pantomime of taking up and 
putting dust upon her head, aiter which she arose and said: — 

Dear Fbiends — I have been sent here this evening 
to tell you how the proud spirit and haughty will have 
been humbled. 

TThen I dwelt on the earth people called me a queen. 
They humbled themselves before me — they approached 
me with deference and respect. Oh ! they honored me 
highly because of my high station. Yes, the mighty 
men of the nation honored me, and kings paid me 
homage! They called me wise and beautiful — they 
said that virtue and wisdom shone in my countenance, 
and that love and charity were my daily companions. 
Oh, yes, they said I was possessed of every gentle virtue 
and every trait lovely in woman ! And still they knew 
not my heart. They knew not the love of applause, 
the feelings of ambition and selfishness which reigned 
in my bosom, nor the feelings of revenge which I 
cherished toward those who thwarted me in my impe- 
rious will. And while the nation were lauding my 
goodness beyond all human comparison, my heart was 
naught but the abode of earthly and vain passions. It 
is true there were limes when my better instincts would 



204 THE FUTUKE LIFJ?. 

assume their sway and admonish me in ray wrong- 
doing. But the still, small voice was quickly hashed 
by the continued sound of flattery and empty show 
which surrounded me. Surely it was not much of an 
effort to smile and look gay when every face took its 
reflex from mine; for the voice of grief or suffering was 
never permitted to reach my ear, save when my own 
spirit groaned in bitterness, warring over the pent-up 
fires of my own raging heart. For there were times 
during my life when, had I been free and unattended? 
I would have cast myself into the peaceful waters of 
the river, so that the former struggles and passions 
might be buried forever in oblivion. And what was 
religion to me but a cloak ? The holy father who con- 
fessed me dealt leniently with my most serious offenses. 
He smiled upon me and called me the anointed of 
God, until there was no sanctity left to shroud religion 
in when I was brought before the judgment-seat of the 
church ; and I always felt as one who was licensed to 
commit sin with a high hand ; no word of reproach or 
censure was ever given me. But still my spirit felt its 
own blackness and impurity. I knew how far separated 
from the pure and beautiful visions of heaven were my 
vain, earthly thoughts. My childhood's moments had 
been innocent and pure, and with a spirit joyous and 
happy I had gloried and reveled in all things beautiful 
in nature. These thoughts, these halcyon hours of 
pleasure left no sting behind. They were now the 
qnlyrays of sunshine that came across my brief career, 
as some dim and half-forgotten dream of Paradise. 
The hours of my childhood now, indeed, seemed as a 
fairy dream in their purity and happiness, compared 



THE QXTEEN. SJlJO 

with the hollow world which surrounded me. My soul 
had once drank deep draughts of joy and consolation 
from the perusal of the works of the good and the pure 
who had lived before me. And I remembered the past 
pleasure with which I had communed with the thought) 
of those spirits who now dwelt, I knew not where. 1 
indeed conceived it to be all a dream, a pleasant, 
a deceitful dream ; for nowhere could I now turn to 
find the sympathy, the communion of which I had 
once partaken. I knew my imperfections, but, alas ! 
they would not let me speak of them. When I spoke 
to my spiritual adviser of the sore trouble and travail 
of my spirit because of her sinful bonds, he, presump- 
tuous man ! forgave me my sins. Oh ! he did not 
remove the load under which my spirit groaned ! He 
only moved the surface, he only caused the voice to 
sink deeper within, so that its tones sounded not. so 
loudly without. And when my life had been spent 
thus far in doing much that was evil (I now feel thus), 
and little that was really good, my spirit passed from 
my temple of clay. Oh, yes, surrounded by weeping 
minions — supported, and consoled, and strengthened, 
as others thought, by the pillars of the church, the 
anointed ones — surrounded on all sides by a profusion 
of wealth, and ostentation, and honors ; forgiven my 
sins at the last hour of my life by one as erring as my- 
self, I departed, soon to be forgotten by those who had 
professed to adore me, who had almost worshiped my 
very footsteps ! But the spirit had fled— naught but 
the dust remained ; and how soon that dust becomes a 
loathsome thing to those to whom it had once appeared 
as the most beautiful thins; in existence ! 



206 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

When I entered the spirit-world, I thought I should 
still be a queen, not of a nation, but still a queen of 
subjects. It seemed that I had been formed for a 
queen — that royal blood coursed in my veins — that my 
ancestors had been kings and queens far back in the 
archives of time ; and it seemed a birthright which I 
never should have to forego, not even in heaven. I 
had pondered much on the state after death, during my 
life, but my ideas had never been clear in this respect. 
What I learned was mostly from the study of the Scrip- 
tures. The teachings I listened to snoke not much of 
a hell, but described heaven ; and my weary heart had 
oft wished for the rest of a heaven ; and I had also felt 
that, impure as I was, I could be no fit inhabitant to 
enjoy so pure a place. And now, as I gazed about me 
in that land of shadows (as it seemed), how rapidly all 
these things ran through my mind ! I felt as though 
I must be cared for — I must be caressed — I must be 
welcomed, because of my former station. I looked 
about me in vain to find some vast assembly of persons 
coming to honor me — coming to convey me in triumph 
to my destined home. But I saw none, and I wandered 
along in doubt and uncertainty, first gazing here, and 
then there. My steps were wonderfully upheld. I 
knew not upon what I w^as treading, and yet I was 
traveling rapidly in a new and unknown place ; and 
frequently I became tired and weary, for my journey 
seemed to lengthen, and ray prospects grew no better. 
I thought within myself, they have not been apprised 
of my coming, they have not expected me, or some of 
my former friends would come and welcome me. And 
now I grew sad. I had gone a long distance, moved 



THE QUEEN. 207 

by the invisible power which upheld my footsteps, but 
I had been cheered by no ray, and I sat down by the 
wayside and wept bitterly, oh, how bitterly ! I felt so 
lonely and deserted! I was no queen now, with will- 
ing subjects to obey my look and nod. There were no 
submissive attendants to minister to my weariness and 
despair ; none ready to raise my drooping spirits with 
music, or their counsel, or comfort. But here I sat all 
alone and deserted by the wayside! yes, as lone and 
wretched as the veriest beggar that had ever prayed 
for bread at the gates of my palace ! And now I was 
filled with anxious reflections. I seemed to look back 
upon my past life, and compare it with my present 
existence, so new to me, and to ask myself, who, indeed, 
am I, and what am I ? Am I not more than the com- 
mon herd ? Am I not still a queen above my subjects? 
Oh ! how my proud heart swelled nigh unto bursting, 
now when I felt how insignificant I was when stripped 
of all my surroundings ! My tears were those of an- 
guish, and shame, and rage, and disappointment.. Long 
time I mused and wept. Finally a calm, a change 
seemed to pass over my troubled heart, but I felt, oh ! 
how deeply, every unworthy act of my past life. My 
former misdeeds, the effects of my baser passions, which 
had left their impress upon others, now stood forth 
before me in bold relief. I now felt that every good 
deed, every gentle feeling of love, or charity, or mercy 
which I had been led to perform or indulge, cast a 
heavenly calm upon me, and took away the fierceness 
and the anguish of my bitter grief. The remembrance 
of these was clothed in a soft, silvery light, oh, how 
beautiful ! Those deeds of mercy now cheered and 



20 S THE FUTURE LIFE. 

comforted my troubled spirit, and again I wept; but 
they were tears of penitence, of contrition, which soothed 
and quieted me, and brought up a hope from the lowest 
chambers of my soul that I might yet be able to per- 
form something more worthy those pleasures I had 
experienced. While indulging in these thoughts and 
wishes of what I might do, and regrets of what I had 
done, I looked up, and beside me stood a female. She 
was exceedingly fair and beautiful to behold. There 
was a look of heavenly dignity and beneficence in her 
face, and her whole being seemed pervaded with such 
gentleness that I was encouraged to speak. She held 
forth her hand and called me sister. She asked me if I 
was weary, in such mild and gentle accents, that my 
tears flowed afresh, and I yearned for her sympathy. I 
now poured out my sorrows, and begged her to lead me 
to some more genial spot. I told her I had been a 
queen on earth ; and when I said this she smiled sadly, 
and said, " There are no queens in this our country, 
save queens of love and purity — those who excel in love 
of their fellows, and whose good works make their faces 
shine with wisdom, and who are ever bearing good 
tidings to those on earth. These are the only queens 
we have here." 

I was amazed at her words. I had not conceived 
that I should be as the commonest subject of my king- 
dom, unnoted and unnoticed. I spoke of many who 
had gone before me, and wished I might be led to them. 
I spoke of the joys and dazzling beauties of heaven, 
which had been described to me during my life. She 
told me that my former friends were all engaged in 
different occupations. I was surprised again, for I had 



THE QUEEN. 209 

not supposed an occupation was consistent with heavenly 
enjoyment ; for the manner in which she spoke led me 
to suppose that the occupations consisted of labor more 
than enjoyment. She gazed in my eyes, and told me I 
was but an untutored child in the knowledge of the 
life w r hich was called the hereafter. She said that my 
spirit's best intuitions had been repressed, that the baser 
part of my nature had been called forth and developed 
by my worldly career, and I must now begin to live 
truly the life which leads to eternal happiness. She 
said my friends were all progressing in their eternal 
journey, and that I must follow them, for they could 
not return to me. 

I questioned her about my former life, and found she 
knew everything concerning me. She told me she had 
been my guardian spirit while I inhabited the body, and 
had endeavored in manifold ways to approach me and 
whisper gentle words of admonition and warning in my 
ears. At times she had led me by the spirit of gentle- 
ness and love. At times I had repelled her by my own 
evil conduct, and had allowed spirits who only loved 
darkness, and to deceive men's souls by their arts, to 
approach me with their counsel and advice. Oh, how I 
wept when she told me these things ! And she more- 
over said I must forget that I had been once a queen on 
earth, for none but the humble in spirit might hope to 
become even as a little child in this land of love. I now 
saw I must lay aside all my former dignity and love of 
flattery, and be led by this lovely spirit's counsel. We 
walked until we arrived at a pleasant mansion, wherein 
we entered. I was here greeted by several spirits, who 
welcomed me candidly and pleasantly, but paid me no 



210 THE FUTtTEE LIFE. 

deference, and seemed not to know I had been a queen. 
And the spirit who had conducted me, said : " This is 
the dwelling wherein yon must take your first lessons in 
self-denial, and in divesting yourself of those worldly 
notions which will be so prejudicial to your future hap- 
piness. Those persons about you will be ever willing to 
assist you with kind and gentle words when you need 
such help ; but you must perform the labor of reforma- 
tion for yourself, and within yourself; you must become 
as lowly and as loving as those who surround you ; you 
must even become as the little flower whose head is 
bowed toward the earth, as if in humility, lest the sun's 
rays might fall upon it with too great and overpowering 
a splendor. My dear child, your heavenly nature was 
formed to be pure and gentle, to be loving and kind, 
to benefit others by your gentle counsels, and to sympa- 
thize in the sorrows of the human heart. But the world 
placed you upon a dangerous pedestal, which only made 
you wretched and unhappy. Your higher and better 
nature was ever struggling to gain the ascendency over 
the material grossness which surrounded you, and the 
mighty conflict only sickened and wearied your spirit. 
And this is why life seemed so hateful and hollow at 
times. The sin was not yours, my child, but it was the 
sin of circumstances and of corrupt teachings, of fawn- 
ing counsels and of selfish aggrandizement. These 
obstructions, connected with others, are now removed ; 
but, my child, all the earthly clouds of error which an 
earthly existence developed are still within thine own 
bosom, and it is now thy labor to erase them all, until 
there shall not be left the faintest trace of their former 
existence. These will pain thee, and harass thy soul's 



THE QUEEX. 211 

comfort, and, until they are all effaced, will still give 
thee the same sad feelings which they did on earth. 
There will be no outward foe here to battle with,. 
Within thyself must the victory be obtained. Then 
tarry not, my child, but begin thy labor immediately ; 
and when thy heart becomes so filled with the love of 
God, that thou shait want to go forth and take the beg- 
gar and the lame and the blind by the hand, and feed 
the hungry, and bind up the broken-hearted, and say to 
the erring : i Sister, I am thy sister and friend, and 
will lead thee in the path of love and goodness,' then 
wilt thou be fit to nfingle with the loving spirits who 
do their Father's will ; and then shall thy face, and thy 
whole being shine with far more transcendent beauty 
than that which was upon thee when thou wast clad in 
thy regal robes. TThen thy good works shall have puri- 
fied and refined thy being in this sphere, oh, then thou 
hast in prospect a glorious flight to another. There 
shalt thou see the heavenly city whose foundation is 
made without hands. There shalt thou mingle with 
the pure in spirit, whose voices will greet thine ear in 
tones of music soft as an iEolian harp. Oh ! what joy 
and glory, what rapture and delight await the trans- 
figured soul ! Thou shalt mingle with beings whose 
purity will shed a light about thee, and cause a heav- 
enly glow to pervade thy whole being ; and thou 
mayest walk by the shining rivers of love, and lave 
thy body in their placid waters ; and weariness shall 
not overtake thee, no sorrow shall enter that place. 
The love of the most high God dwells in and pervades 
all things here, where no grossness can enter. The ele- 
ments of discord and inharmony approach not that 



212 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

place, but the voices of angels, singing never-ceasing 
praises, are borne down on every breeze, and find a glad 
response from every heart which dwells therein." 

Oh! now I wished I had never lived, I had become so 
wrapped in wonder and amazement while she spoke of 
that place; and then the long-forgotten dreams of child- 
hood stole softly across my memory. Ah ! then I felt 
it was true. I felt that in the purity and happiness of 
my childhood's home, the bright angels from the far-off 
realms had whispered those thoughts into my heart, for 
I was then less material, more natural. The connection 
between that glorious land and my spirit had been more 
close in my childhood's hours than when I had mingled 
with the world and partaken of its character. 

And now she breathes a blessing upon me ; she tells 
me to labor, to love, to persevere ; and she leaves me to 
return to her bright reward far beyond me. But she 
says I shall see her when I have worked out the mission 
which it is my part to perform. She bids me be careful, 
be watchful, for there are earnest eyes and loving hearts 
gazing down and beckoning me upward. Oh ! who would 
not labor ; who would not be a beggar ; who would not 
forego all earthly honors, that they might hereafter be 
permitted to be only one of the least in the house of 
God, in the gates of Heaven ? 

Previous to the communication being finished, she was asked what 
what her name was? She replied by saying: "My name is Humility; 
once it was Pride." 



A SCENE IN SPIKIT-LAND. 213 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

A SCENE IN SPIRIT-LAND. 

Given by Mrs. Hemans, January 31, 1854 

As the unclouded splendor of day is passing into the 
mellowed light of its sunset beauty, a band of happy 
spirits are seen reposing beside a sparkling fountain, 
whose clear and pellucid waters reflect ten thousand 
colors of changing beauty as they sparkle in the am- 
bient light. Flowers of immortal fragrance give forth 
sweet perfumes to the celestial air, and majestic trees, 
whose foliage is of living green, spread out their arms 
inviting to repose and meditation. Birds of rare beauty, 
whose notes give forth sweet music, such as is never 
heard by mortal ears, add a charm to the pure and 
happy scene. A low and gentle melody breathes upon 
the air. I look up, and behold a company of spirits 
are approaching to join the ones already present. 
Their robes are bright and shining, and their coun- 
tenances are radiant with the light which cometh 
from God. The wisdom of the holy presence sits upon 
each countenance, making it fair and peaceful to look 
upon, and yet they look gentle and loving. ]N~o shadow 
of earthly passions remains graven upon their seraph- 
faces. There is a glow of light, a gladdening, blissful 
feeling, pervading the atmosphere in which they move. 



214 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

They are approaching the spirits who are waiting to 
receive them. And now they greet each other with a 
glad smile of welcome. A deep and unutterable joy 
seems to be welling up within each heart as it greets 
and welcomes the other. And those who have last 
come sit beside the fountain also, clasping each others' 
hands. They now bid each other recount to their 
companions the result of their labors, for they have 
been upon earth laboring earnestly and unceasingly, 
each in a different direction, and they now assemble to 
speak of that which they have accomplished as faithful 
workers, whose labor is that of love and undying hope 
in the redemption of their fellow-man. One says, u Be- 
loved teacher, the task which I had to fulfill was hard. 
I spoke the words of wisdom which were given me. I 
gave the lessons which were given me. Some would 
listen, and some would turn away unheeding, forgetting 
that truth could come through other than those who 
were clad with authority which the law giveth. But 
some hungry souls who were thirsty for a draught of 
eternal truth received the words gladly and freely, and 
they became joyous in the knowledge of eternal and 
progressing wisdom. And when the jewels are gath- 
ered together, the beauty of their spirits will be drops 
in the cup of my gladness." And another said, " I went 
to earth full of mighty resolutions to do the will of my 
Father, to turn the hearts of men from mammon to 
the purifying and ennobling influence of the knowledge 
of the love of God to them through the years of their 
past forgetfulness, their slumbering unconsciousness. 
And I thought I would speak with the voice of an 
entreating angel, that I would stir up the depths of 



A SCENE IN SPIEIT-LAND. 215 

their spirits to see the darkness of their ways, the down- 
ward tendency of their paths. I approached the young ; 
they would not hear me ; their future was opening 
before them in rose-tinted colors, their passions and* 
strengthening energies were gaining daily force from 
the reckless impulses which hurried them along ; few 
would listen to my pleading voice, but said as in answer 
to my entreaties : ' Time enough, we are young, we are 
happy, we are striving to become leaders of the people, 
to rule the multitude, to sway the great mass, to step 
in the places of those who are daily going out from 
amongst us ; curb not our ambition, clip not our soaring 
wings in their upward flight, but let us speed onward, 
ever onward, until we have reached the highest, pinnacle 
of worldly ambition, and when all our wishes are satis- 
fied, when our hearts no longer yearn and struggle for 
worldly aggrandizement, when we gain that for which 
we are laboring, then we will listen to your pleading 
voice, then we will put the world beneath our feet and 
turn our thoughts to heaven.' I passed from the 
young to the old. Some would hear me doubtingly, 
mistrusting the sound to be that of earth, so long had 
its delusive power enchained their souls and kept them 
from all that was bright, that was fair or heavenlv in 
their nature, that they could not raise their faith nor 
extend their grasp beyond the sphere where all their 
affinities were enshrined. Prayers they could utter 
with their lips, but they were not the fresh outgushing 
of the heart, but they were those which had been given 
by rule to be repeated as a form through other lips. 
It was sad to leave them so unbelieving and yet so 
needy, so ignorant of the life which they were soon to 



216 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

enter, and yet, O kind and loving guide ! I had to pass 
on ; my precious time could not be thus wasted in talk- 
ing to hearts of stone ! The idols of gold and silver 
ever intercepted the spirit-forms, the spirit-voice from 
their hearts ; and verily, I said within my soul, i It is 
not well that men should grow old in forgetfulness of 
their higher and eternal life, for, as man's time becomes 
shorter upon the sphere where his heart hath its only 
abiding-place, he would fain linger forever within the 
precincts which only seem to him as the brightest 
heaven which his soul can aspire to, and when he un- v 
willingly leaves it, his soul finds no sympathy, no 
pleasure in the opening future before him.' And I 
again spoke to the youth and said : ' O young man ! 
or young maiden ! pause and think ; thy heart is warm 
and bounding, the flowers of thy youth are blooming 
brightly, and making thee glad in the sunlighted 
beauty of their gorgeous coloring ; but the flowers of 
thy youth will perish, many of the hopes which thou 
wouldst realize will prove delusive, the vain shadows 
of thy own longing, and mock thee at ]ast with bitter 
disappointment. Give ear now to the appeal of love, 
hearken to the soft and pleading voice of angel-lips. 
Beings ethereal and pure, loving and anxious, surround 
thy youthful steps ; turn, turn not away, shut not thy 
heart against their gentle influences, but lift up thine 
eyes and ask thy Father to be the guide of thy youth, 
and he will surround thee with such guides as will up- 
hold thee in the hour of trial, and save thee from the 
great pitfall of temptation. And when thou art old, 
thou canst look upward with a brightening eye and a 
living knowledge that there is within thee a hope of 



A SCENE IN SPIKIT-LAND. 217 

eternal life strong and undying. And death shall not 
dim thy happiness, but it will open to thee the unre- 
vealed book, whose pages are all unfolding, one after 
another to thy astonished soul, the infinite wisdom, the 
boundless and unchanging love of thy heavenly Father.' 
And I tell thee, O beloved guide ! that some did stop 
and hearken to my voice, and I placed upon their brows 
a talisman of hope, a wreath of undying flowers, which 
only spirits might see, and when they approached those 
hearts, they would draw near and call them blessed ; 
for lo, the still, small voice of love had found an echo 
within their hearts. I blessed them, and their path- 
ways shall be angel-lighted, and they shall give to 
others consolation and comfort through their short 
journey of life on earth." 

Another spirit now speaks. It is a female. Her 
eyes are meek and dove-like ; tears have often bedewed 
her cheeks, and her spirit hath been chastened and pu- 
rified through suffering and great sorrow. She said : 
" O loving ffiiide ! I come back from my earth iournev, 
thankful that God hath permitted so feeble and un- 
worthy a spirit to join hands with those who love the 
cause of their Father so well. My first mission was to 
seek out the sorrowing, the broken-hearted ones of 
earth. Oh ! how many, how numberless they are, and 
how I wished that every tear which came forth from 
the fountains of my heart, could be turned into a bless- 
ing for them. I lingered about them long. I whis- 
pered to their hearts of peace and hope. I spoke to 
them of the place where all tears are wiped from the 
mourner's eyes, and when a sorrowing mother grieved 
for her child, I brought the idol of her heart, and set it 
10 



218 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

before her, that it might point her upward, and then, 
I told her that a link had been established between her 
and heaven, a sympathetic chord which would ever 
draw her there, but she must keep it untainted. She 
must not snap it asunder by the cares and engrossing 
loves of earth. Her heart grew more hoping, and now 
she is not without the strength of hope. 

" I then spoke to a sad and erring daughter, whose 
crushed and weary spirit desired the rest of oblivion. 
Her hopes had once been lighted by the trusting faith 
of love, and her poor spirit had learned to curse the 
name, to wish that it might be blotted forever out of 
the records of heaven. A blight had fallen upon her 
young life. Oh, weary and sad were the upbraidings 
of her spirit, w T hen conscious at times of its true but 
degraded position. She would have courted death with 
her own hand, but the future was fearful, and when 
she had thrown herself prostrate upon the earth, I drew 
near and whispered to her poor lacerated, despairing 
soul words of hope beyond the grave. She could not 
at first hear me, but gradually a great quiet and peace 
fell upon her spirit, and she thought she was in a 
dream, a dream of childhood and happiness, of inno- 
cence and love. I bent over her shattered form, and 
spoke in whispers which her heart might hear. I told 
her of repentance upon earth, yea, and of hope beyond 
the earth, "With words of entreaty and soothing: svni- 
pathy I gently led her spirit into the paths of duty, of 
rectitude and virtue, where strength would be given 
her to live a repentant life. Oh, how she wept and 
wished she might die while the happy dream lasted. 
But she arose and went her way, resolving to profit by 



A SCENE IN SPIKIT-LAND. 219 

the warning which had been breathed to lier spirit. 
Her life now seemed of some worth, and, as I left her, 
' friends, 5 w T hose spirits had long been unable to ap- 
proach her, nestled close beside her. The work of heal- 
ing had commenced in her heart, and w T ith the assistance 
of spirits, and of friends in the form who will receive 
her, she will jet rise up purilied and blessed, and enter 
upon her spirit-life with a hoping, throbbing joy, thank- 
ing God for his mercy, and meeting face to face with 
those bright beings, whose dewy breath, whose warm 
and striving hearts were exerted to raise her up. 

" And next I visited the poor orphan, crying for bread, 
shivering with cold, uncared for and suffering. How 
cold and cheerless the life before that orphan ! I looked, 
and near him were his parents sad and unhappy, be- 
cause of the misery of their child. Oh, sad sight ! there 
were none to give it bread, but the cold, unwilling hand 
called charity, and on all sides were snares and pitfalls, 
every thing to mislead the little wanderer, and nothing 
to cherish, to warm the little hungry heart with, the 
fullness of affection, and no arm to protect from sur- 
rounding dangers. When night had come upon the 
earth, and no covering or scarce a shelter could be found 
by the little waif floating on its tempest-tost bosom, I 
drew near and blessed the orphan ; I pressed him to my 
heart, and prayed to my Father in heaven to send angel- 
guides to watch over the immortal germ, to influence 
some benevolent heart to cherish the little withering 
flower, to give it some bosom to which its little heart 
might nestle in the spring-time of its life and twine 
around hereafter with love and affection. I watched 
him while he slept in his infantile innocence and deso- 



220 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

lation, and I said : 6 1 pray thee, O Father of the 
fatherless ! to cast a strong bulwark about this innocent 
one, that he may live an upright and holy life, and 
learn to call thee his Father, and know thee as such for- 
ever. 5 Many sympathetic spirit-friends were gathered 
round the lone child, and each one resolved to do a part 
to assist in leading that child aright through life's check- 
ered path. He was conducted, through the aid of spirits, 
to a sympathetic heart ; the neglected one was cared 
for; a kindly hand was stretched forth, and the little 
one's head now slumbers beneath a friendly roof. Thou 
w r ilt say, gentle teacher, that my prayers were Answered, 
unworthy as I am. Many, many scenes of suffering 
and of misery, of desolation and disappointment w^ere 
witnessed by me while my earth-journey lasted, and my 
spirit shall watch through their lives the good work 
which was given me the power to begin, and I will bless 
and magnify the goodness of my Father for his un- 
bounded mercy to me, and I shall stand ready to greet 
each one as they enter their spirit-home, and tell them 
of what mercy and protecting care hath followed their 
lives ; for they w T ill yet shine bright and glowing with 
immortal purity among those who have been redeemed 
from sin and suffering through the love of the Father, 
and in the light of eternity shall our spirit see what the 
little seed hath grown to, which was so small as to be 
almost unseen ; its rays will become those of refulgent 
light and dazzling beauty, as time develops in its un- 
ceasing progress the immortal attributes w T hich belong 
to each unfolding germ." 

Another speaks who has left earth. " I came," said he, 
" to report my work as only begun. Lo ! I have wandered 



A SCEXE IN SPIBIT-LAND. 221 

up and down, and I've penetrated into the secret re- 
cesses of man's most hidden motives. I have stood 
in the sacred places of earth, where man does lip- 
homage to his Creator, and I've watched the word as it 
fell coldly and without power upon the hearts of those 
who heard it, for verily, pomp and circumstance are 
but the impressions of an hour, and the sound of many 
words but created a confusion when they were not 
understood or rightly applied. I found no resting-place 
for the sole of my foot in the structures which had been 
erected by the hand of man, as the altar whence his 
prayers should ascend to heaven as a sweet incense 
before the throne of God. The cold and heavy atmos- 
phere oppressed and retarded my ardor, and with diffi- 
culty I penetrated the gross element which was filled with 
so many thoughts whose birth was of earth. Sad and dis- 
pirited, I sought a willing ear somewhere else. I sought 
the home of the lowly. I approached the couch of the 
suffering, and, verily, they received me, they repelled me 
not, but with heartfelt tears they received the comforting 
influence from my spirit to theirs, and where the humble 
and upright man spoke forth the thoughts which come 
freighted with truth and everlasting light of heaven, I 
stood by, and breathed strength and hope and comfort 
to his soul. For the simple and honest child of nature, 
was more receptive, more congenial to the influences of 
indwelling light, than those whom forms and ceremo- 
nies and outward garbs of piety had surrounded by 
their gross and heaven-defying influence. Where mirth 
and revelrv, the dance and sons;, where wine and all its 
exciting influences held their sway, my voice could not 
be heard, my footsteps were turned aside. Sad and 



Z'll THE FUTURE LIFE. 

dispirited, I left the scene of mirtli and revelry. I 
sought the lowly cabin of the poor, the oppressed child 
of slavery, and as he breathed his simple prayer, a spirit 
stood by and took it up and laid it before the Father's 
throne as a sweet-smelling incense of gratitude. I 
said, ' Pray on, hope on, poor slave ; thy bondage is of 
earth, not of heaven ; thy poor bleeding heart will be 
freer and brighter, and far happier in the spirit-home 
than the one who calls thee slave, and lashes thee with 
many stripes of suffering. 3 My spirit grew glad as I 
gazed ; I grew stronger to proceed on my mission of 
love. And then, I beheld another poor, ignorant, un- 
taught child of slavery, whose heart had never been 
taught other than bitter and resentful feelings, the 
springs of whose love had been turned into streams of 
hate, because of the oppression of the task-master, 
because of the chains which cut the flesh and the bonds 
which held the soul down on a level with the brute. O 
sad and dreary picture! I strove to breathe some hope, 
some comfort into the poor, wayward, desponding heart. 
I whispered : ' Child of toil and captivity, there is a 
brighter sun shining for thee beyond the starry heav- 
ens; there are peaceful homes, placid and fair, where 
thou shalt yet rest thy weary limbs ; there are angel- 
friends whom the fetters of earth no longer bind, wait- 
ing to welcome thee, and deck thee with flowers, to 
cheer up thy sad and desponding spirit.' And they 
also thought they had a beautiful dream. And they 
wondered in their darkness if heaven was so beautiful 
a place, and if angels were so beautiful and bright. Oh, 
that low whisper, that softly breathed prayer, left an 
impress behind which no oppression can efface. 



A SCENE IN SPIRIT-LAND. 223 

u And I strove to approach those whom they eall their 
masters. I strove, and would fain have moved theii 
hearts with pity and charity. I would have besought 
them not to imprison the immortal spirit which God 
hath made free. I appealed to their tenderness, and 
wished to move their spirits to act in accordance with 
the dictates of nature; but the circumstances of custom 
and of law had riveted its chains so firmly about their 
hearts as to darken their better judgment, and render 
them deaf to the appeals which their own hearts often 
unconsciously made to them. I blessed those who were 
gentle and kind to the flesh and blood which their 
money had purchased, and I prayed to my Father to 
open their hearts to the soft tones of his loving mercy, 
and make them the instruments of giving life eternal to 
those who were their bondsmen, for I saw that it was the 
sin of custom more than of necessity, and I said within my 
soul, when the heart hath been opened by the spiritual 
unfolding of true light and loving, practical works, they 
will see their error and the gentle persuasion of the still, 
small voice from within will guide them aright, and the 
oppressed shall be cared for and lifted up, and their spir- 
its shall be made as fair and as pure, as trusting and 
loving in the simplicity of their faith as those who 
have raised them. Verily, the light of each good deed 
becomes a star of rejoicing in the home of the spirit to 
greet it at its entrance. Therefore, beloved teacher, T 
come back from my mission hoping, for a power hath 
been breathed upon the people, a voice hath thrilled 
their hearts, a feeling unknown and undefined by mor- 
tals is pervading, is expanding the great beating, puls- 
ing heart of humanity. It only shows a ripple here 



224 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

and there, but the ripples will grow into waves, and the 
winds will take lip the story, and bear the glad tidings 
over the face of the earth. And so I returned rejoicing 
with exceeding great joy, happy to return and work out 
my part in the great struggle of right over all." 

Another now speaks. Her floating robes sparkle in 
the soft and mellow light even as gems of beauty 
and rare brilliancy. Her brow is bound with a chap- 
let of lilies. Her voice is soft and musical as the 
tones of an feolian harp ; its vibrations thrill through 
every listener as the touch of a iine-toned instrument. 
" Yea," said she, '* I come from earth glad and rejoicing. 
My friends, they welcomed me with open hearts and 
outstretched hands ; they clasped my spirit-form to 
their hearts, for they knew me, they remembered my 
voice as in time of yore, and when I spoke of my 
home beyond the blue firmament and the twinkling 
stars, when I told them of the loving Father who per- 
mitted us to return to cheer and to comfort, to love, to 
guide and direct, they hailed my approach with joy un- 
speakable ; their hearts became one great temple of 
rejoicing in their newly found life, for 'Lo, ? they exclaim- 
ed, ' heaven hath come to earth, and made earth seem 
bright and glad. It is within us, it is beyond us, it is 
all around us ! And the mourners were comforted, 
and the sick were healed, and the doubting, faltering 
ones were gently led along by a hand which was strong 
and able to guide. And the glad tidings ran faster and 
swifter ; it was taken up and conveyed from heart to 
heart, and all who responded to its call, were made 
partakers of a living joy forever within their reach. 
The veil was rent asunder which had kept the loving 



A SCENE IN SPIFwIT-LAND. 225 

caress of friends so long unfelt, so long unknown, whose 
labors are now being rewarded by being recognized 
and loved. And I told them also to beware of those 
who had left the earth sad and unhappy, whose 
influence had often unconsciously led them to commit 
errors at which their souls would shudder if they knew 
their source. I directed them to look up with the eye 
of trust, with the heart of entreaty and love to their 
Father, to surround them with holy teachers, whose 
love and wisdom would lighten their pathway and 
make them a light unto others. I told them that truth 
born of God was a pure and beautiful gem, and wher- 
ever it found a resting-place, wherever its bright 
flowers could blossom, it would beautify and strengthen, 
it would make the inner light of all hidden mysteries 
reveal themselves clear and undimmed to the in- 
quiring soul ; for what now seemed dark, enveloped in 
mists, and not perceived by the awakened soul, would 
in its unfolding progress become a source of infinite 
delight and awakening wisdom through the growth of 
that precious flower ; and to them w T ho received me, I 
gave the words which thou gayest me, and many spirits 
joined with me, and blessed and hallowed the scene. 
It was divine and heavenly to behold spirits and mor- 
tals mingling heart with heart, for I saw the earthly 
spirit grow better and purer. I saw it become more 
expansive and loving, more like the little child before 
its heaven-born nature has been corrupted and corroded 
by the soul of selfishness. But it did not take from the 
brightness of the spirit to give to the mortal, but 
greater power and stronger light overshadowed and 

surrounded the spirit, that more might be given the 
10* 



226 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

mortal The result of my mission to earth, kind teach- 
er, is ended for the present, and if thou wilt but give 
us thy approving smile, if thou wilt place thy hand 
"upon our heads and bless us with the Father's blessing, 
if thou wilt guide and direct our footsteps again among 
earth's children, we will return cheerful and glad, and 
as thou dost recede from our view, floating in the light 
of thy purity, w r e shall hear the soft and gentle mur- 
mur of thy voice still approving and upholding us with 
thy advice in the tasks w r hich have been given us. 
Thou art great in wisdom, thou art benignant and 
kind, thy heart doth throb with every heavenly emo- 
tion which cometh from God, and we know that thou 
dost send thine influences to earth, and thy sympathies 
through us, who can mingle with earth's atmosphere 
when thou couldst not. Therefore, bless us holy ones 
forever. And forevermore we shall labor unceasingly 
for the love of the Father, which cometh down through 
the channels of his mercy." 

Dost thou see now, that the spirits are parting each 
to go their respective ways, and dost thou hear the 
words which are spoken by the unfolded wisdom of 
those spirits who have come from their bright but 
distant home to counsel and strengthen those whose task 
it hath been to develop and make useful, in the sphere 
which they left, the labors which they are fitted to 
perform ? 

One speaks in a gentle yet commanding voice, and 
says : " Thou hast done well, my children ; thou hast 
been faithful and unwearied; each hath performed a 
part, and each hath given to earth some light, some 
awakening hope. In the name of the Father we bless 



A BCEKE IX BPIP.IT-LAND. 227 

thee ; return upon thine angelic mission, and perform 
it well, the harvest is truly great, but the laborers are 
few ; we will pray that the Lord of the harvest would 
send forth more laborers to gather up the jewels, \^ 
brush away the rough and unsightly covering whic 
envelops many, that none may be lost or overlooke c . 
Thy sympathies are still with earth; thy labors mus, 
be on earth until others are prepared to fill thy place, 
whose sympathies with it are closer than thine ; mean- 
while those cords wdiieh draw thee thither have 
drawn thy friends up to thee. And now labor for the 
reward which thou knowest is beyond, and when thine 
earthly mission is accomplished, the future shall be one 
bright vista of unfolding glories, and thou shalt be 
partakers of eternal light and wisdom, and bask forever 
in the sunlight of the smile of thy heavenly Father." 



228 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTEK XXXVII. 



THE MISER. 



Monday, February 18, 1854. 
The following: was given through Mrs. S. : — 

A poor old man comes in your midst, bending be- 
neath the weight of a heavy load, and surely he looks 
as though he would rather part with life itself than with 
that dearly-loved treasure. He comes to you bearing 
the same appearance he did when he left your earth, 
lie was not of your country nor kind, but lived in a 
distant part of your globe. We will let him give his 
own history. 

The spirit said that the miser did not influence the medium himself, 
but gave his history, which was repeated by the spirit controlling the 
medium . 

Fellow-mortals, I have been instructed to come here 
to-night and give a brief sketch of my former and 
present life. I do, indeed, come with my much-loved 
treasure in my arms. I come, bearing the empty em- 
blem of that which constituted my all-engrossing hap- 
) iness while on earth — the gold, the yellow gold, which 
alone my soul craved " as its food and its drink/' as its 
highest felicity and joy. With what bitterness and 
regret I look back upon my earthly career. Ah, we ! I 
must look back, there is no help for it. 



TUK MTSEE. 229 

I bowed down all the energies of my soul to the accu- 
mulation of this one idol. Ay ! my weary soul itself 
bowed down daily and worshiped it as a god, whose 
possession would confer happiness and joy upon my 
whole existence. The predominance of this passion 
repressed all that was good and noble within me. It 
made me grasping and niggardly — it made me deaf to 
the voice of sympathy and love — it chilled my very 
heart's core with its golden, its false glitter. And when 
a soft and gentle voice within me besought a hearing, 
I would lock myself up within the glittering walls of 
my treasure and shut out every emotion save that of 
avarice and penury ; for this, alas ! was my daily com- 
panion. I used not the comforts which God had strewn 
so bountifully around me. My heart was too sordid to 
part with one penny, unless it was to keep me from 
actually starving. Oh, how I loved my wealth ! Oh, 
how I gazed upon it ! How I gloated over it daily and 
dreamed of it nightly, and hid it away, lest any should 
steal it out of my possession ! And often, during the 
hours of my unquiet slumbers, I would start up fran- 
tically, thinking some one had stolen my treasures. 
Wretched, miserable miser that I was ! I deserve the 
frowns and dislike of every honest and generous heart 
while I make this humiliating confession. But how I 
loved that dross I alone can tell — I alone have felt the 
pangs which I have endured in consequence of that 
base passion. But finally disease took a strong hold 
upon my enfeebled and emaciated frame. Oh ! I was 
no proud subject for death to triumph over. In all my 
misery and rags, in all my wretchedness and filth, there 
was but one warm spot within, and that was where I 



230 .THE FUTURE LIFE. 

felt the strong love of my gold. Oh, how I hated to 
die and he buried beneath the surface of the earth, and 
leave that treasure above it ! I longed to cany it with 
me, to rest my head upon it, that it might be my com- 
fort when I waked in the world beyond. And that 
waking! That dreadful, dismal waking! Oh, how 
it makes me shudder now to think of it ! My first con- 
sciousness was that of being in darkness and coldness, 
and having lost my treasure. My treasure ! Oh, how 
I groaned, and wept, and begged for that which had 
been the comfort of my life ! Every thing seemed 
gloomy and cheerless without it ; and when I at last 
became fully conscious of my position, how dreadful, 
how terrible were the thoughts which filled my soul ! 
Oh ! no. No bright spirits approached me, no kindly 
looks welcomed me ; but beings as repulsive as myself 
stood and beckoned me to their company. And I said 
within myself, O wretched man ! thou hast doomed 
thyself to eternal misery, because of thy love of earth's 
base metal ! There was nothing inviting or pleasant 
in the company of those miserable-looking beings. 
Their countenances expressed no other emotions save 
those of sensual gratification ; and all their propensities 
seemed to be groveling and earthly. The eyes of my 
soul were now opened. I saw myself, my former life 
reflected back in those beings who were near me. They 
wished my society, but I did not wish theirs. As dark 
and repulsive as I felt my own soul to be, their horrible 
appearance made me rather wish to fly from them than 
to approach. On gazing at them more closely, I saw 
that they held tightly within their grasp treasures of 
gold. I saw them hug them up to their bosoms, and 



THE MISER. 231 

then tliey would look toward me and point toward 
them. Yes, it indeed seemed to be part of that I had 
prized so highly, and which I still coveted so ardently. 
I was tempted to go near them when they showed me 
the treasure, when a bright form, which I had not 
before perceived, in a warning voice bade me beware 
how I trifled with my eternal happiness. But the love 
of gold was so strong within me, that I could not resist 
its pleadings, even for the voice of an angel. I had 
known no other God, and my heart yearned only for its 
earthly idol. Tremblingly I approached those misera- 
ble beings, and then, oh, grief and sadness! their arms 
contained naught but an empty show, no gold in reality, 
nothing but that which wore the semblance; for when 
I touched it, it melted from my grasp, its very touch 
scorched my fingers, and then it fell away from my 
hungry view. Oh ! then I felt how lost and wretched 
was mv condition — then I wished that I might sink out 
of sight, or be carried away where I should be remem- 
bered no more. But such was not my fate. Oh ! how 
they laughed at me with a fiendish joy. They mocked 
me, they bid me behold the fruits of my long labors. 
There was a look of exultation, of triumph in their 
countenances as they witnessed my disappointment ; 
and yet they, poor wretches, were ever grasping at the 
unreal phantom — the empty treasure. And I stood as 
one lost and forsaken of God and man. Who in this 
vast space around me cared aught, or knew aught, about 
a poor, insignificant soul like me ? ISTone seemed to 
think of my existence save those poor wretches, who 
seemed even more unhappy than myself; for while I 
knew how unreal their treasures were, they were con- 



232 THE FUTUEE LIFE. 

stantly grasping up that which was naught but empty 
air. They never looked up, and when a kindly voice 
was wafted to their ears on the breezes, they heard it 
not. No joy, no comfort for them save in that unsat- 
isfying labor of accumulating and always losing. And 
now I sank upon my knees and buried my face in my 
hands. Yea, I bowed my head to the very earth, and 
prayed in bitterness and grief that God would have 
mercy upon me, worthless worm of the dust. Oh, how 
prostrate my spirit now laid in its dejection and sorrow ! 
"Lost! lost!" I exclaimed; "no light, no mercy will 
heam upon me — no bright angels will come near me, no 
kindly voices will cheer the solitude of this awful place." 
And then a voice said in mine ear, " Oh ! you will have 
gold, heaps of gold; cheer up, man, for you shall dine 
on gold and sup your fill of it every day. You shall 
revel in it, for we have been many years here. Wo 
always loved it and craved it, and don't you perceive 
how much of it we possess I" I turned shuddering away, 
for it was one of those dark, fiend-like beings who had 
spoken in my ear. fc; God help me," I said, "for I am 
lost eternally, lost for my love of gold." And then a 
deep, calm voice spoke loud and- clear. It said, "O 
mortal ! not lost for eternity, only thou hast lost many 
years of joy and happiness in thy spirit-life. Lost eter- 
nally? Oh, no! not eternally, for our God is a just 
and merciful God, and he forgives the sins of his erring 
children when they come to him in meekness and hu- 
mility of spirit. But, mortal ! thou hast lost all the 
joys which thou wouldst have experienced had thy 
hoarded wealth been given for the good of thy fellow- 
man — had thy cherished treasure only been made useful 



THE MIS HE. 233 

in any way, thou wouldst not now feel the weight of 
sin and degradation which prostrates thy soul so low. 
And now, frail mortal, canst thou give up thy gold, or 
must thou, like those poor darkened souls on the other 
side of thee, still hug that senseless treasure to thy 
heart? Are thy thoughts still wrapped up in the joys 
of that possession ? If so, thou must be like those upon 
whom thou art gazing. Poor spirits, how darkened are 
their souls ! and yet they are not lost, no, not lost, but 
they have not yet thrown off the love of earth and 
earthly gratifications. Their aspirations are not for 
the good and the pure. They think of naught but 
gross animal pleasures ; and as long as they desire 
such, as long as they seek no higher — as long as their 
souls are wrapped up and lost in such illusions, they 
can not be less degraded than they are. Oh, pity them, 
mortal ! To think of the many precious hours they are 
losing in worshiping their earthly pleasures ! And let 
it carry a deep and lasting lesson to thee, ignorant, self- 
ish, vain mortal that thou art ! for thou must now see 
thyself in thy true colors. Repent and be converted; 
thou hast many long hours, ay, years of labor before 
thee. Why, thou art little better than the animal 
which bore the animal's form and feature while on 
earth, and walked in a lonely position. Thou hast nev- 
er shown that thou possessedst one attribute of a god- 
like soul ; thou didst, if it were possible, disgrace thy . 
immortal spirit by the way thou didst insult and keep 
it hid beneath thy earthly covering. It is even now 
all blurred and dimmed by the impurities of thy earthly 
life, and it can not stand forth in its true dignity until 
thou hast labored long and ardently to wash away thy 



234 THE FUTUEE LIFE. 

former sins. It lies with thyself; begin now, choose 
the way of hardship and labor, for hardship it will be 
for thee. Or stay here and grovel in the dust, until 
thy soul shall become so wearied and worn with its 
profitless existence, that thou wilt be glad to begin still 
farther off than thou mayest do now, to wash out thine 
iniquities and cause thy light to shine. There is much 
for thee to do which must be done. And when thou 
hast overcome the follies and sins of thy past life, 
when thou hast gained confidence and hope even in 
thy ignorance and unworthiness, thou must again de- 
scend to those poor spirits who are still in so much 
misery. It is thou who must stretch forth thy hand 
and assist them, for didst thou not, in thy earthly life, 
encourage them by thy acts? And thus shalt thou blot 
out the memory of thy sins until they shall darken thy 
sight no longer. There will be no lack of instructors 
and kindly words of encouragement. Gladly will good 
spirits approach all who do not repel them. But the 
labor lies within thyself. Thine own hand must how 
down the mountains which rise to bar thy progress to 
that world of purity and holiness which lies far be- 
yond." 

He ceased speaking. Oh ? blessed and hopeful words ! 
That I am not eternally lost. My resolve was long 
since taken, friends, and so far have I profited in my 
toilsome but thankful journey, that I have come to you 
in humiliation of spirit and with thankfulness to God, 
who has permitted me to testify to his boundless love 
and forgiveness even to such a wretch as I. Good- 
night. 



SPIRITUAL INFLUENCE. 235 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

SPIRITUAL INFLUENCE. 
New York, March 16, 1854. 

All subduing and beautifying are the influences 
thrown around ns by our intercourse with those who 
have outlived all the impurities and vanities of earth. 
Without the connecting link which binds the spheres 
together by a spiritual affinity, man could not, without 
infinite labor, rise much higher in the scale of existence 
than the animal. His spiritual nature, not being called 
forth nor acted upon, and his grosser faculties having 
the ascendency in all things, the germ of his immortal 
being would become buried in the earthly rubbish 
which surrounds it, and it would, indeed, be faint and 
puny in its first flight from its prison-house of clay. 
Without the divine breathings which are dailv shedding 
their light down upon the infantile weakness of the 
soul, and inciting in it hopes and longings for a future 
glorious existence, how little would it regard its own 
immortality ! 

Many of those who daily hold intercourse with beings 
who have passed from among us, and who in their love 
and affection call us brothers and friends, when changed 
from the earthly to the spiritual world, will tread its 
courts with familiar steps, will inhale its balmy breezes, 



236 THE FUTUJIE LIFE. 

and scent the fragrance of its flowers as though it were 
the home in which they had ever existed. The life 
spent here would seem like a dim, disagreeable dream, 
a troubled remembrance which soon becomes dimmed 
by the dazzling distinctness of the unclouded light, 
which shows all things fair and pleasant. Such souls 
have only been staying here in anticipation of reaping 
the reward of their good works. Such only live here 
to do their Father's pleasure, that they may hereafter 
bask in the lisht of his countenance. To them the 
earth is naught but earth. It contains nothing so pre- 
cious as the immortal souls who move upon its surface. 
It is but a stage whereon souls undergo the transforma- 
tion necessary for their further and higher elevation in 
the scale of eternal progress. And those who have 
quaffed the goblet of heavenly nectar while tarrying 
here upon the borders of earth-land, are blessed, for 
they have shaken hands and communed with angels, 
their brothers, who have drawn near unto them and 
filled their souls w r ith the music which comes on the 
wings of the morning from the far-off citj^ of Grod. 
Man need no longer sit in darkness nor uncertainty 
because of his future. He need not bow his head with 
grief, nor dissolve his heart in tears, because of the 
awful punishment which awaits those who step aside 
from the path of rectitude. The Deity now shines 
forth in all his beautiful attributes of love and mercy ; 
and the intelligent soul that seeks tor light and wisdom 
from on high, will, ere long, be convinced of the loving 
kindness and forbearance which he has ever exercised 
toward the most ignorant and guilty of his children. 
They are not now met by stories of a frowning and 



SPIRITUAL INFLUENCE. 237 

angry God — one who will take pleasure in pouring out 
the vials of his wrath, and executing judgment upon 
the defenseless heads of the children whom he has 
created. But they now see and know that their Father 
is just, and careth for all and every one of his creatures ; 
and to those who will receive them shall be given angel- 
guides, invisible but ever near and watchful, to guide 
them aright. Now, children, wanderers upon the face 
of the earth, draw nigh with your hearts, and let your 
aspirations ascend, so that you may be comforted with 
the consolation which cometh from the great Fount of 
all comfort, of all joy. And they who need a physician 
shall be made whole. 



238 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 



THE ]S T E W CITY. 



May S, 1S54.— Under the symbol of the " new city," is shown the progressive devel- 
opment of the spiritual philosophy. 

I see a number of persons laying the foundations of 
a new city. The materials they are using are of the 
most peculiar kind I have ever seen. The persons 
engaged in the labor have hopeful, cheerful faces, and 
seem much elated with what they are trying to bring 
to perfection. 

They say they are going to establish a magnificent 
city ; and all on a different plan and principle from any 
thing ever built before. It will excel all others in 
beauty and durability, and it shall stand as a pattern 
before the world. 

But methinks there are so many minds engaged in 
this work, and all laying their foundations so different, 
they will not be substantial. Some of them will have 
to be taken up and relaid. Some of them will be swept ; 
away by the first storm that beats against them. 

It will be a strong and a wonderful-looking city, being 
built by such a variety of minds, each working accord- 
ing to his own fancy. But I see it progressing rapidly. 
Some parts of it are very beautiful. Some of the struc- 



THE NEW CITY. 239 

tures tower high above the others, and the architecture 
attracts the attention of all who pass. 

But why is this ? Some are working leisurely and 
slowly, while others are toiling as though their lives 
are depending on the immediate accomplishment of 
what they are doing. They make haste to erect the 
structure, but do not examine the materials. They 
throw them together hastily, and seem only anxious to 
accumulate much to behold. Others have proceeded 
little with their labor, and look despondent, and think it 
will never be brought to perfection, and that they had 
better abandon what they have done, and return to their 
old habitations. 

But still it progresses, though it looks strange and 
uneven. Now I see a few individuals who are walking 
about and giving orders. They command that this shall 
be done so, and that so; but others are not willing to 
obey their commands. 

I fear the city will be left unfinished. There is no 
system — no ruling mind capable of leading all those 
people to do the work as it should be done. I perceive 
each one thinks his mode the best, and each insists on 
having the buildings erected to suit his own peculiar 
views. But the city will in time be built. It will at 
first be irregular and devoid of harmonious beauty, and 
from the singularity of its foundations, unlike any other 
city. 

The people still labor, but they look less happy. I 
see dissatisfaction and murmuring in their faces. They 
are not satisfied with their own work, nor that of their 
neighbors — and they ridicule the structures around 
them, and say "What deformity." 






240 THE FUTURE LIFE, 

It is a strange study. It is a marvelous sight to the 
one who views that city in its commencement, for it 
shall grow and spread and be filled with a vast multi- 
tude of souls. But a long time will elapse ere it shall 
become pruned down and rebuilt and beautified, ere it 
shall have the purity and beauty of style, the tone and 
harmony of proportions, which its projectors intended it 
should have ; and it is not made for one only, or for a 
few, but its usefulness will be universal, and it will 
become the abiding-place of all mankind. 



THE ERRING ONE. 241 



CHAPTER XL. 



THE ERRING ONE. 



Jun,6 23, 1854. 
This evening a Spirit, purporting to be Mrs. Hemans, influenced Mrs. 
Sweet, and said: — 

My dear friends, I feel deeply grateful to you for 
your kindness in permitting me to come and bring the 
poor wanderer to tell her own sad tale. I thought it 
better to let her speak herself, as she is the most fitting 
one to give the sad experience of her sad existence. I 
will stand by, and if the medium will be passive, she 
will be able to assist the poor spirit in telling all that 
which is necessary to be told. 

[Mrs. Hemans now withdrew her influence, and an- 
other spirit took possession of the medium, and kneel- 
ing in our midst, said : — ] 

u Can you indeed receive a poor abandoned wretch 
like me in your presence, long enough to hear my sad 
story ?" 

[We said that it was our duty, and our earnest de- 
sire, to hear her story, and trusted that it would not 
only benefit those present, but many others, and that 
she could rely upon our sympathy in whatever she 
wished to say, and concluded by requesting her to be 
seated, as her humble position (kneeling) was not a 
n 



212 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

proper one among us, who were erring mortals as well 
as herself. Seating herself, she replied :— ] 

Oh ! if any one had only said this to me, while I was 
treading the downward path to ruin, how I would have 
kissed the very dust beneath his feet. But none said it. 
Look at that lovely being who brought me here. She 
is angelic in her purity, and radiant in her love and 
charity to the fallen and erring children of earth. If 
such spirits dwelt in the human form upon earth, oh ! 
what would they not do toward raising the wretched 
outcasts from the depths of their misery ! 

I once had kind and loving parents, and I once was 
innocent and stainless as any who wander in your midst. 
My heart was warm and full of love, and it was going 
out in sympathy toward every heart, toward every 
being ; and all who smiled upon me were partakers of 
that love which was constantly asking for more objects 
to love, and from whom to receive love. Death de- 
prived me of the kind protectors of my childhood, and 
I was thrown among strangers, and soon I became the 
prey of the artful and designing one, who first deceived 
my trusting affections, by pretending to return my love 
with all its fervor and warmth, and who promised to 
be to me all that and more which I had lost in my 
dear parents. These were happy hours to my young 
and guileless heart, but now my soul had been robbed 
of its purity and truth— of all that was lovely in woman 
— of all that gave her dignity and firmness in the power 
of her innocence. Then I was basely deserted — cast 
out upon the world with bitter taunts and sneers. O 
God ! that I should tell it ; that I should remember 
those first hours of my agony and suffering. But I was 



THE ERRING- ONE. 243 

hot base and false-hearted then: I was not degraded in 
soul ; I was not lost to every feeling of goodness and 
purity. No ; my spirit loathed my body, but my spirit 
was crushed, and hope was dying within me. Oh ! my 
heart was bleeding with an agony and strife unspeak- 
able, when I had to contemplate the dark future before 
me. But, O my Father in Heaven ! thou knowest that 
even then, had any hand been reached forth ; had any 
kindly voice spoken one word of encouragement to me 
in my misery, they could have turned, they could have 
saved me from the black pollution which afterward 
followed ; but no such sympathy was near ; I met with 
nothing but harsh words, and forbidding looks. Oh ! 
then my soul awoke to the falsehood and deception 
and to the black treachery of man. Then all the kind- 
ness and all the love of my nature was turned into 
bitterness and gall. Oh ! they trampled upon me ; they 
made me a thing of merchandise ; they made me worse 
than a slave ; they turned me into a very fiend, to en- 
compass the destruction of the unwary, who are easily 
led into the snares of temptation which is set for them ; 
and while my face was wreathed in smiles, and my eyes 
shone bright with the unnatural glare of the dark pas- 
sions which were roused within me, my heart was 
naught but a black caldron of suppressed rage and 
hatred to all mankind. They cared not for the burning 
tears which I shed in the fullness of my grief and shame; 
they mocked at my remorse and bitterness of soul, when 
black despair would sometimes fasten itself upon my 
spirit, and then I would shriek out in anguish, and 
then I would pray God that I might die, that I might 
be taken away from the scenes of horror which I was 



244: THE FUTURE LIFE. 

enduring ; but no, I was doomed to live on, to become 
hard, and cold, and callous to every thing — to forget 
^hat I had ever been pure and innocent — to forget that 
a mother had ever kissed my cheek, and blessed me, 
and called me her precious, much loved child — to forget 
that I had loved every thing that was good and beauti- 
ful. Ah ! it must have been a dream, and this life is 
only the dark reality, the awakening from a pleasant 
dream to black misery. And then what cared I for 
death, the future ? Oh ! there was rest, and peace in 
the grave ; and the future — who dare think of the fu- 
ture, who lived as I did ? who dared to raise one prayer 
— to pronounce the name of God, with lips as polluted 
as mine ? Why, I dared not raise my eyes ; I dared 
not touch with my polluted garments, the pure sisters 
of earth. If they knew I was near them, they would 
shrink as though my touch were contagion itself. And 
man, the noblest work of God, they say, why, he trampled 
upon me, he spurned me, he would not permit those 
whom he protected, and cared for — who had a claim 
upon him — even to look upon such as I, vile things that 
we were. And yet we had souls. But death came to 
me sooner than I anticipated. The agonizing strife — 
the wretched life which I led — soon made my body 
unable longer to retain the spirit within it, and I lay 
down weary, oh ! how weary, to die, to be forgotten. 
And had death no terrors to me, you say ? Oh ! ye3, 
ten thousand terrors, but the spirit and the body were 
alike too weary, too worn out, even to feel the terrors 
of death. A dreamless sleep was all I prayed for ; the 
quiet of the grave was all I had to look forward to ; for 
I dared not to think of resurrection ; it was too hor- 



THE EKRING ONE. 245 

rible, it was too frightful for me to anticipate ; and when 
the spirit was at last released, and the worthless clod 
was wrapped up and laid in its narrow bed, to mingle 
again with the dust, and become food for the worms, I 
was glad the loathsome thing was hidden from sight, 
never more to be revealed to the eye of man. And 
you ask where my spirit went. Ah ! poor crouching, 
trembling spirit, well I knew where I went. I awakened 
to consciousness in a strange and gloomy place. I was 
on earth, and yet I was not of earth. I was fain to 
find some resting-place, yet knew not whither to turn. 
But who are these approaching me now ? It can not 
be that the same wretched companions whom I mingled 
with on earth, are to be my companions here. Why, 
here they are, coming in a band to meet me. Oh ! mis- 
ery is here also. Hark to the fiendish laugh with 
which they approach me. Yes ; they have come to 
take me with them to their abode in the spirit-land. 
O thou just and merciful God ! dost thou permit such 
wretchedness to reign here also ? Oh ! I am lost — lost 
forever. My companions here, are like my companions 
there ; but how can it be otherwise ? for if I saw any 
one spirit who was different, who was good, or pure, or 
light, I should flee away out of sight ; I should hide 
myself with shame; I could not live in the sight of the 
good and pure. See how black and repulsive my 
spirit looks. Oh ! I now see myself as I am. Then it 
seems there is no rest, no cessation of misery, even 
here, and this is a dark awakening to a darker reality. 
Oh ! can it be there is no death ? can it be there is no 
entire oblivion of the past ? Oh ! it seems not, it seems 
not, for the recollection of my earthly life come3 crowd- 



216 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

ing like a mountain torrent into my now quickened 
memory. Oh ! the first of it, how pleasant and fair it 
seems; but oh! take that picture away, for I see my 
father and mother there; I see my pure and innocent 
sister. Oh ! take it away, take* it away ! 

And now, see the blackened images of sin and hy- 
pocrisy, of deception and desertion, and then headlong 
distraction and misery, all rise up before me. That is 
no dream ; that is all real and vivid to my sight, as 
though written in letters of fire upon my seared and 
scorched heart. Oh ! must it continue ? Will it not 
cease ? They let me reflect here ; they would not let 
me do so there. I see their misery ; I see the expres- 
sion of unhappiness upon their countenances ; but they 
have no power to touch or molest me, unless I join 
them in their unhallowed works. This is better than 
it w r as there. There they compelled me to do wrong ; 
here they only act from inclination to do wrong. This 
is not quite so gloomy, not quite so chilling and terrible 
to my soul, as my life upon earth was. There is a 
power w r ithin me to do wrong if I am so minded, but 
there is no outside power to compel me to do wrong if 
I do not desire it. This is not surely so soul-harrowing 
a place to be in, even in its saddened gloom, as the 
place I left. But I have earnestly desired to speak 
with some who are in this place, and yet, I dare not. 
I follow them about ; I see their actions ; I hear their 
profane and disgusting language ; I see their dark and 
forbidding countenances, and then I see that I am as 
loathsome and repelling as they, and yet I fear to min- 
gle with them. There seems to be a powder within me 
that keeps me passive. But surely I am not so to re- 



THE ERKIXG ONE. 24:7 

main. I must have some sympathy, some companion- 
ship, even if it is among those who are like myself. I 
had expected a far greater state of misery than this. 
My soul had pictured to itself some black abyss, replete 
with every horror which the mind could imagine, kept 
in readiness for the evil-doer. My punishment is lighter 
than I deserve ; but oh ! how unhappy I am. 

My mother, she told me of bright and glorious angek, , 
when I was a prattling little infant, and she learned me 
to pray to my Heavenly Father, and she told me many 
strange, but now almost forgotten things, of a beautiful 
country, and a golden city, and angels with harps in. 
their hands, singing the praises of God, and of little 
children who dwelt in that bright place, and of him 
who said, " Of such is the kingdom of heaven. 5 ' Oh ! 
I thought of this now, for the first time in many 
long years of suffering, and shame, and remorse ; 
and I wondered, and oh ! how I wished that I might 
know where my mother and father then dwelt, I 
wondered where the innocent sister was, who had 
left us. My mother once told U3 that she had left 
us to dwell with God. But I could not speak of 
heaven ; I could not utter those hallowed names in that 
place. Oh no, my soul had sunk within me. And thus 
I was thinking how I should gain some information 
regarding those dear friends who had been so long 
separated from me. Oh! the bitter agony which my 
spirit felt, when I thought I might never more behold 
them, the gulf between us seemed so deep and wide. 

Hitherto, none had forced their presence upon me ; 
but they seemed to act and look as if they expected 
me to join them. My soul, I knew, was black with 



248 THE FUTUKE LITE. 

iniquity and evil-doing, but there was yet left within 
me a faint spark which dared to hope there might be a 
better, a more inviting place than this, in which I 
might spend the long life which seemed opening before 
me. I did not now wish to join them, although they 
seemed to be the most fitting companions for me. I 
seemed to myself to have lost that recklessness and 
hardihood which had carried me through my wretched 
and degrading career of vice. And there were now 
two principles working : something new and strange. I 
could not understand the feeling which prompted these 
emotions. < 

Presently, one of the spirits approached me, and 
taking me kindly by the hand, asked me to join them ; 
bade me to enjoy myself; to feel as though I were 
among friends, and promised to show me all the 
mysteries, all the novelties — to initiate me into all 
things pertaining to their mode of life. And still I 
stood undecided. What was this new wish which had 
sprung up in my heart so suddenly ? Why did I linger 
and wish for something, I knew not what? I had 
gazed on and partaken of vice and misery so long, that 
I had no desire to explore further into its mysterious 
darkness; but how should I fly from it? how should I 
escape the eternal punishment that was awaiting me — 
living over again the wretched life which I had just 
left ? 

My attention was next attracted to a voice which 
seemed to speak in my ear softly and sweetly. I 
turned around and looked, and oh ! there I beheld so 
lovely a sight. A being in white and softly flowing 
raiment stood beside me. Oh ! so pure and bright she 



THE EERING ONE. 249 

seemed, that I scarcely dared to look, — that I scarcely- 
dared to move, lest my foul blackness might taint her 
pure robes. And she reached forth her hand to me, — 
to me, defiled and repulsive as I was, and she called me 
sister. Oh ! that word ; music never sounded sweeter 
than that simple word sounded in my ears, when she 
addressed me so kindly and looked at me so lovingly. 
She told me she had followed me from my death-bed ; 
she told me she had accompanied me thus far, and if I 
chose, that she would be to me a sister and a guide ; 
that if my spirit was weary of sin and of sinning, I 
might now begin to redeem the past, and live a life of 
purity for the future — that I might commence the 
labor which I must perform, ere my soul could ever 
taste aught of joy, or peace, wherever it might wander. 
She told me that two paths were now open before me. 
On one side were those who still loved the darkness 
better than the light, and who were making for them- 
selves many bitter hours of repentance, to be worked 
out hereafter ; for she said to me, the human soul may 
sink deeper in the depths of sin and iniquity, but it can 
not go beyond the reach of mercy — it can not become 
lost forever — but it can create for itself what will seem 
an eternity of labor, and regret, and remorse, by 
refusing to return into the paths of wisdom when the 
opportunity is given it, for none are compelled to do 
right — to progress — they must do it from the love, the 
strong, innate desire to follow the upward path, and 
when they enter the world of spirits, their senses are 
opened to a true perception of their position, and they 
are met with kind words and gentle persuasions, to take 
the right road in the beginning of their spiritual 
11* 



250 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

journey. They are told the difference ; they are shown 
how they may outlive the sin of their lives, by living in 
accordance with the commands and laws of their Heav- 
enly Father, if they will but bend an ear to the wise 
counsel which is given them. And if they will not 
receive such advice and assistance, where else can they 
go, but to mingle with those who are most congenial to 
their state of mind? And there they must remain, 
until they desire to do that which will be acceptable 
and pleasing in the sight of God and of good spirits, 
before they can earn a place where they may learn 
wisdom and knowledge, without which they must be 
eternally wretched and unhappy. 

The spirit told me all these things, and more, and I 
asked her what I should do, how I should begin to 
labor for eternal happiness ; for that was the word she 
used : it was anew word to me, in connection with the 
joys of heaven or eternity. I had supposed that 
Spirits of the blest did but sing the praises of God in 
the fullness of their joy, and not a thought of labor. 
And then she questioned me as to my knowledge of 
many things which I had never before thought of: they 
seemed to me to belong more to earth than heaven. 

I said I knew nothing of the things of which she 
spoke. She told me I was ignorant and undeveloped, 
in an earthly as well as in a spiritual sense of the word ; 
and why, said she, Were these useful faculties given you 
if not to be used? And then she told me that I must 
study to learn all that concerned my own being — all 
within myself that was capable of being useful to my- 
self, and that others must be developed, and refined, 
and acted upon. 



THE ERRING 02*E. 251 

I was amazed at her words, and I felt as helpless and 
useless as a little child. She told me if I desired now 
to begin a life of usefulness, and of gratitude to my 
Father, whose mercy and loving-kindness had sent 
ministering spirits unto me, that I must begin with my 
whole soul to gain knowledge and wisdom ; that I must 
leave all those dark and repelling spirits who claimed 
my society. If I desired to leave them, I could do so, 
and I should be assisted and strengthened to pursue 
the labor which I had begun. I must begin it some- 
time, and were it not better for me to begin it now? 
were it not easier for me to blot out one lifetime of sin, 
than to live on in remorse and wretchedness, and sink 
still deeper, and hug my chains still closer? 

And then I spoke of my dear friends, and asked if I 
might ever hope to see them ; and the words which she 
spoke, fell upon my weary spirit as dew upon the thirsty 
earth. "Raise up. your head," said she, " and labor 
bravely and earnestly, for your labors will be rewarded ; 
and those parents whom you love so much, will come 
to you shortly to bless you and help you. . They can 
not come now. It is my duty to come first, to teach 
you your duty. Oh ! if they did come near to you now, 
it would break your heart, it would crush your spirit 
quite down, to see the agony and suffering which they 
endured on your account. If they told you of the long 
and weary watching, and the hopeless efforts with which 
they strove to snatch you from destruction, your soul 
would melt at their sorrows and their struggles. And 
when they saw you encompassed by the dark and hard- 
ened wretches who plotted your ruin, they were un- 
happy and wretched ; they could not rest in their man- 



252 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

sions of joy and peace, but they grieved and sorrowed 
for your sake. And that mother will tell you how she 
has wept bitter tears of sorrow over your nightly couch, 
and prayed that you might but die and be where her 
spirit could reach you, her child, whom she had loved, 
and still did love so well. But finally, the dark spirits 
would cluster closer about you and drive her away, and 
oh! then she wrung her hands in despair — then her 
grief was unspeakable." 

I said, " O kind spirit ! tell me no more, but show me 
how I may do any thing which will enable me to reach, 
to see but for a moment, the faces I love— to be clasped 
in mv dear mother's arms a^ain, as when I was an inno- 
cent child — to hear my father's blessing on my infantile 
head. Oh ! a life of misery were cheap to earn all this. 
Oh ! let me not look back again to where all is dark, and 
chilling. Oh ! let me do any thing, every thing, so that 
I may be saved — saved from misery — from the memory 
of misery, and I will bless you, and worship you." 

" No, no, my sister," said she, " no worship is given 
here, save to God, and that is when the full heart is over- 
flowing with his love, and his goodness, and then it 
sings a song of joy and gladness." And now others ap- 
proach me. How kindly they look upon me! They 
do not frown ; they do not shrink from my presence, as 
though I were pestilence itself. Oh, no ! but they hail 
me as one who wishes to live a new life. They can not 
live it for me; they can not perform my labor; that 
can be done only for myself: but they speak for me 
words of encouragement, they sympathize with my past 
sufferings, and they point me upward, to where I may 
one day ascend also, and see and taste of the joys which 



THE ERRING ONE. 253 

are prepared for those whose labors entitle them to such 
reward. Oh, no, I can not, I will not return. I had 
thought, while on earth, that all memory of me was 
forgotten. I little knew that I was grieving with un- 
utterable grief, those who still loved me. Oh ! what a 
thought, what a knowledge was this for me — to know 
that those dear ones who had passed on to their peace- 
ful homes, should, by their love and affection for me, be 
made unhappy even in so bright and holy a place as 
heaven. Oh ! how very unhappy and wretched it made 
me, when I knew it; and this spirit tells me, that I 
shall have to exert all ray strength and energies in 
giving to others that which I receive, that it may bene- 
fit them likewise. She says there is no selfishness here ; 
we receive but to give, and to benefit each other. Oh ! 
could the poor, misguided inhabitants of earth — those 
who have lived and suffered as I have done — but realize 
how bright a hope is held out for them, how great & 
happiness is in store, would they not forsake the down- 
ward path ? They could not, oh, no, they could not 
refuse the kind invitation ! If they could but see the 
kind friends whose hearts they wring with grief, they 
would not encourage those fiendish spirits who encom- 
pass them about, and keep them under their control, 
and make them slaves to vice and sorrow. Every word 
and every action of the past, comes up before the once 
startled vision in the world of spirits. Oh ! that they 
would not make the record longer and blacker. Oh ! 
that they would cease at once doing that which will 
take many long years of suffering to undo ; for the 
soul must be purified through suffering, and developed 



25-i THE FUTURE LIFE, 

through labor, and thus it will progress unceasingly 
toward the throne of God. 

My words are feeble, to tell you of the feelings which 
are gushing up from my heart. Oh ! how happy and 
buoyant I feel, when I know that the fetters of sin, 
which were bound about my spirit so firmly on earth, 
have burst, and my spirit is free. No strong hand to 
pull me back and threaten me, if I want to do right : 
none to trample upon my spirit and spurn me from 
their presence when I am sorrowing and weary. Oh ! 
no, the bright spirits come near me, and wipe away my 
tears. They lay their soft hands upon my aching brow, 
and whisper words of bright hope to my desponding 
heart ; for they say, that I shall yet outlive all the bit- 
ter memories of the past in my efforts to do good to 
myself and others. And I shall ascend up to that 
beautiful place, where my brow will be decked with a 
never-fading garland of flowers, and my robe will be 
spotless as the snow and dazzling as the sun ; where 
my heart will sing sweet songs which will chime in 
with the music of the angels, and the songs of the re- 
deemed shall be wafted on the zephyrs of heaven to 
the throne of the Father. 



THE IDLER. 255 



CHAPTER XLI. 

THE IDLER. 

February 2, 1354. 

Worthy laborers, to you who are earnestly workings 
that you may benefit your fellow- creatures, I come to 
tell my story, that yon may publish it abroad as a lesson 
for many. I feel how unworthy I am to stand in your 
midst, to utter a word concerning myself, but it were a 
pleasure to do even this small act, if by so doing I shall 
benefit one soul. 

I was an idle, thoughtless youth. Idleness was my 
besetting sin. The years of my life which I should have 
spent in pursuing some useful duty toward the world, 
were squandered away by me in idleness and frivolity. 
Seeking only my own gratification, and striving but to 
obtain all my selfish desires, I wasted the best years of 
my life in idleness and self-gratification. I thought 
not of the obligations which I owed my Maker. I 
cared not for the duties which I owed my fellow-man ; 
but lived only to care for self, and grasped at every 
fleeting pleasure ere it vanished from my crazed view. 
And old age soon found me a useless encumbrance 
upon the earth. I had benefited none, therefore there , 
were none to love me, or to feel grateful to me for 
past kindness. I had not relieved the widow or the 
orphan ; I had not raised a finger to relieve the suf- 



256 THE FUTUKE LIFE. 

fering or sorrow which my eyes had witnessed ; but had 
passed them by in a cold manner, only thinking what I 
should next find to please my own insatiate appetite. 

And when I neared the portals of the tomb, when 
my limbs grew feeble and my sight grew dim, and when 
every thing began to look dreamy and fading to my 
aged eyes, I was compelled to look back upon my past 
life. Oh, how I searched, and gazed, for some redeem- 
ing deed to relieve the dark volume of selfishness which 
" was spread out before me ! But no bright deed of love 
or charity illumined with its rays that dark page. And 
I was laid in the tomb, unwept, and unregretted by all, 
save one or two whom the ties of nature had bound me 
to. I had cared for none save myself, then why should 
others care for me. My wealth had been sufficient to 
make me independent of the assistance of others, and 
my cold, selfish heart was so bound up within itself, that 
it asked not for sympathy beyond itself and its own 
desires. And I left the world in this condition. Re- 
ligion had never been used by me as a mask, for I needed 
not such covering ; and my heart had not thought a 
knowledge of the future state necessary for its present 
happiness, and I rather turned from it with contempt; 
it was a subject I never liked to meddle with. The 
dark side had always terrified me, and filled me with 
uneasy forebodings ; and the brighter side, the fair pic- 
ture of heaven which had often been drawn within my 
hearing, had appeared to me as a pleasant and beautiful 
dream, which had been conjured up by some poetical 
mind, with all its pleasant fancies and attributes. I 
could not conceive of any thing like a reality about it. 
But if at all true, I wished that the heaven might be 



THE IDLER. 257 

my abode ; and the endless torment must surely be a 
fiction. 

When I awoke in the spirit-world, I shuddered. The 
atmosphere which surrounded me was oppressive ; I 
could not gaze through it, so as to see any great distance, 
and my faculties all seemed confused and disturbed, as 
though I had had some terrible dream — some hideous 
nightmare. Yes ! I felt as though I had been passing 
through some dreadful place. I still felt the icy chill of 
death at my heart, and it seemed as though the spirit was 
unwilling to leave its earthly temple. Ihad emerged into 
a world, a place, I knew not what, I knew not where ; I 
knew nothing about it, and my friind reverted back to 
the past, and I tried to collect together every thing 
with which my mind had been stored, and out of that to 
form some idea of my present locality. And first, one 
thought would seem to point me in the right direction, 
and then another memory would drive me another way. 
Oh, how uncertain and vacillating I felt ! I knew not 
where to turn, or where to go. I was oppressed by a 
sense of loneliness and desolation. A cold and gloomy 
fear seemed to have taken possession of my heart. I 
could look for no sympathy there. I had asked for 
none ; nor did I deserve it ; but I did wish that some 
friendly hand would guide me to some place of rest, for 
I stood as one distracted, with a measureless space spread 
out before my view when I w r as able to gaze calmly 
upon it. But I knew not what direction to take, so I 
wandered about at random, hoping to meet with some 
one who would give me the required aid. O friends, 
how aimless I felt ! Js o object in view ; nothing to 
search for ; nothing to look forward to ; nothing to ex- 



258 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

pect ! And I wandered about unknowing and unknown. 
I saw many people as I ascended on my journey from 
earth ; but none accosted me, none seemed attracted to 
seek my company ; no eager gaze was fixed upon me. 
I seemed to excite no attention, or interest, I was not 
even a subject of curiosity among the people when I 
passed ; but, uncared for and unsought, I wended my way 
alone, and traveled until I became weary and heartsick. 
In my stubborn silence I had determined to speak to 
none, unless they first addressed me ; but this had now 
become a painful task which I had imposed upon my- 
self, and I wished that some one would draw near and 
speak to me, that I might ask something about the coun- 
try in which I found myself. But none approached me. 
So I arose, and went near a group of persons, who were 
speaking together, and addressed them, and told them 
I was a stranger, that I had just left my home on earth, 
where my wealth and station had commanded attention 
and respect, but I had been called away, and was in a 
strange and new place, a place in which I was ignorant 
in every particular. 

, One among them, who seemed to speak with author- 
ity, gazed upon me sternly, and asked me why I had 
not prepared for my eternal journey. He said, from 
my present appearance, I had dwelt long enough on 
earth to have made ample preparations for the journey 
which I was now commencing ; but here I had come 
naked of every thing which was most needful ; no 
knowledge, no chart to tell me of the bearings or char- 
acter of the country or people ; nor had I even be- 
sought aid of any, neither on earth nor in the world of 
spirits, but had come there proudly and presumptuously, 



THE IDLES. 259 

and depending entirely upon my own merits and knowl- 
edge. 

I told him I had always regarded such matters, merely 
as the imaginings of the minds which gave them forth, 
and that I had no sure guide, no positive testimony, to 
assure me of the truth. 

" Weak and sinful man," said he, " was not thy heart 
sufficient evidence to thee in its wondrous workings, in 
its wrestlings with the baser passions ? Was not this 
sufficient evidence to thee of thy immortal being? Was 
not the still, small voice, which often came up in tones 
of reproof and admonition from the depths of thy soul, 
a warning voice, a monitor to admonish thee of thy 
shortcomings? But no, these were not sufficient to 
draw out thy soul from the folds of selfishness and 
worldliness which had enveloped it. And thou didst 
spend the precious time which thy Creator gave thee, 
wherewith to develop and beautify thy spirit on earth 
for its immortal destiny, in thinking only of the things 
w T hich pertained to thy fleeting existence in thy tran- 
sient home. O mortal! how couldst thou be so self- 
deceiving ? Why rob thy soul of the rich feast which 
had been waiting for thee now, had thy days and hours 
been improved in laboring for the benefit of thy brethren 
and sisters ? Why so foolish as to cut thyself off* from 
all sympathy within \he walls of thy material strong- 
hold, by making of thyself an idol, for thy own soul to 
fall down and w r orship ; by thinking of naught beside, 
nor striving to propitiate any other power than that 
which lay in thy own heart. For to thyself alone has 
all thy earthly worship been devoted. Thou hast sought 
no other God, nor worshiped no greater heaven, than 



260 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

that which comprises thine own enjoyments. Oh, look 
back upon thy past life, and wonder that thou hast not- 
long since been cut down as an encumbrance of the 
ground ! Thou didst not have to struggle with poverty 
and want ; suffering was not thy companion ; therefore 
thy sins are greater than that of those whose necessities 
would compel them to labor for a subsistence. There 
was much for thee to do, but thou didst not perform 
any thing, only for thyself, when thou mightst have done 
so much to relieve, to raise up, to enlighten those around 
thee. Even if thou hadst done it only in a material 
sense, tby sin would have been less, for thou wouldst 
have still been cultivating the love of kindness to thy 
neighbor. Thou hast indeed come here empty-handed, 
and idleness will now be thy portion, until labor would 
seem the greatest boon which Heaven could bestow. 
O idle man ! thou shalt have thy fill of idleness, until 
the very name of self and idleness shall be a sound of 
grief in thy ears. And the many precious days and 
weeks which were spent by thee in doing naught upon 
earth, shall now loom up before thy sight and appear as 
centuries of time. Oh, each day, each hour which 
has been wasted by thee, will yet call for a retribu- 
tion' at thy hands. And thou must learn to abhor the 
sin of idleness, as one of the greatest bars in the gates 
which have shut out thy entrance to the bright abodes 
of the blest. And with bitter tears and sorrowful heart 
thou wilt have to begin to labor, the labor for eternal 
life. The hours wasted by thee must all be accounted 
for here, for not one moment which has been allotted 
in the life of man shall be blotted out from the record, 
but shall appear before him, while any thing appears 



THE IDLEB. 261 

thereon which leaves a shadow of darkness. And when 
by long years of repentance and labor thou hast blotted 
out all thy past offenses, then shait thou indeed begin 
to travel upward. When thy heart shall have melted, 
and all its coldness and hardness shall have vanished, 
and when it asks for sympathy and love, and freely 
gives them in return, and when humility, like a white 
mantle, shall envelop thy soul and shine out upon thy 
countenance, then will the past indeed have become a 
dream. Oh ! when thou thinkest of it, thou wilt kneel 
down, and with upraised hands and eyes thank the 
great God in all his majesty and glory, for making thee 
feel how unworthy thou hast been of his loving-kind- 
ness and sweet forgiveness to thy many shortcomings. 
For the proud heart shall find no habitation in the 
mansions of the blest, but only the meek and the lowly, 
the souls who labor because labor is a work of love, 
shall find an entrance prepared to receive them." 

Oh, brothers and sisters who are still in thy temples 
of clay, whatever thy hand findeth to do, do it heartily. 
Labor while the day lasts ; let not the precious mo- 
ments go to waste, for they must all be accounted for 
in eternity ; they must all be repaid ; and every deed 
done in the body shall stand forth in light or in dark 
colors, to confront you there on your entrance. And 
therefore I say, Watch and pray, for the night of death 
cometh, and thy soul will surely misgive thee for 
wasted time and opportunity ; for God is infinite in 
wisdom ; his love is never ending, and his mercy en- 
dureth forever. 



262 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XLIL 

THE BEGGAR. 

February 23, 1854. 
This evening a spirit came and said : — 

It is needless for me to give you a history of my 
earthly life. It is one which you are all, more or less, 
familiar with in some of its phases, as you daily witness 
in your streets those objects of want and misery called 
beggars. The position which I occupied in your world, 
was owing to the circumstances which surrounded me 
when I entered it. Therefore it was no sin of mine, 
nor no vicious course of conduct which reduced me 
to the station which I occupied. I was simply born a 
beggar, and reached the estate of man, being a beggar 
still. Circumstances had so encompassed me, that I 
could never rise above that one condition ; and I passed 
from this world into the next, bearing all the character- 
istics of my mendicant's life. 

I was not considered wicked, but merely ignorant, 
and I thought if heaven was any pleasanter place than 
earth, food and clothing more easily obtained, and the 
comforts and luxuries of which I had heard, but not 
partaken of, were there in abundance, it must be a very 
pleasant exchange. For when I have suffered from 
cold and hunger, and have begged for a farthing to 



THE BEGGAR. 263 

buy some food, I have often imagined that the cold and 
dreary earth could be only a place of punishment for 
some ; and that heaven must be the reward of those 
who had suffered while on earth ; for its goods always 
seemed to me so unequally divided, that I could not 
think that God, as a just God, would permit part of 
his creatures to live in luxury and ease, and compel the 
other part to misery and degradation. I, in my sim- 
plicity, could not see it was the work of man, and was 
caused by the laws which man had made ; he control- 
ling the circumstances, and even, in a measure, the 
destinies of the race. The torments of hell I conceived 
to apply to those who had turned the good things 
which God had given them into wasteful and riotous 
excesses ; who had abused his rich gifts by turning 
them into instruments to serve their own sensual pas- 
sions and appetites. 

Man might be spiritual and pure for aught I knew, 
but the most I had ever received from any of those 
who pretended to be law-makers and teachers, was an- 
gry reproof because of my poverty and want, and an 
admonition to reform, which I would gladly have fol- 
lowed had I been furnished with the means to do it; 
but I only returned to wallow in the mire again. 

The spirit-life opened a new field to my astonished 
vision. When I put on the garb of immortality, I was 
a beggar no longer, but kind spirits came near me, and 
greeted me as though I had been an expected friend. 
They welcomed me from out of my state of bondage 
and ignorance into the world of liberty and light. 
They clothed me in clean and comely robes, and they 
fed me upon the bread of eternal life, which is called 



264: THE FUTURE LIFE. 

wisdom. And they gave me to drink of the waters of 
that stream which flows through the beautiful city 
called Holy. And as I quaffed deep draughts thereof, 
I thirsted no more, save for the unsearchable love of 
the Father. I felt that I was indeed a new being. 
My childhood had known but few joys, and my after- 
life none : then you may judge how bright and beauti- 
ful a place the lowest seat in heaven would seem to 
me ; I mean by that, how dazzling and fair then seemed 
every thing which my eyes beheld, while I was only 
in the first sphere, or in the infant school, so to speak, 
after leaving earth. Oh, how greedy my ears drank 
in every sound of wisdom and knowledge, and how 
rapidly my soul expanded as it beheld the opening 
glories of the immortal world ! They carried me from 
sphere to sphere, as my ignorance and grossness was 
cast aside, and so my heart received the love of God. 

Fair and lovely spirits now meet me, and take me by 
the hand, and show me the wonderful works of the 
glorious Creator. They support and sustain my falter- 
ing steps; they bear me up, and breathe into my soul 
high and holy thoughts, and now I feel that God is in- 
deed just and wise, that he is all-powerful in his love and 
mercy, and that though man may trample on and crush 
his fellow-men on earth, or so warp and control their 
circumstances as to cause them misery and suffering, 
and condemn them to ignorance ; 'tis only on earth they 
can do it; it extends no farther, and whatsoever ye shall 
do on earth to your fellow-man, be it just or unjust, ye 
shall be rewarded accordingly when ye put off the flesh 
and put. on the spirit, for our God is all just and glori- 
ous, and his laws endureth forever. 



INSIGNIFICANCE OF MAJS\ 265 



CHAPTER XLIIL 

INSIGNIFICANCE OF MAN. 

March 2, 1854. 
Bfias. Sweet was influenced and repeated some poetry, after which 
the spirit said : — 

Friends, would that 1 could speak with the tongue 
of an angel through, this instrument, and tell thee of the 
glorious beauties which are now before mine eyes, but 
which thou dost not behold. I would tell thee of more 
beauty and serene joy than thy soul in its earthly 
materialism ever dreamed of. 

The art of the painter hath failed to give thee even 
the faintest glimpse of the heavenly eiysium. And 
yet thou dost think thine earth beautiful, thy sun 
glorious, and thy moon resplendent in her mild softness. 
And thou dost feel humiliated, when thou dost behold 
these wonderful works of thy Father which is in 
heaven. Thou dost think thy mountains high and 
towering, because their tops reach and penetrate the 
clouds; thou dost think thy oceans broad and bound- 
less, because thy puny arm can not encompass them as 
thou dost smaller things: and thy soul is filled with 
wonder when thou dost behold the bright and twinkling 
stars, and thy imagination is endeavoring in vain to 
conceive of the multitude of worlds which are above 
thee. O man ! thou art but as the least atom — as 



266 m THE FUTURE LIFE. 

the smallest particle of all his wonderful creations. 
Thy soul, which at times seems filled with great and 
mighty thoughts, would become humbled in the very 
dust couldst thou but conceive how small a thing thou 
art, and how great and all omnipotent is the power 
which gave thee being — the mind from whence thou 
emanated. Thy clays on earth are few and fleeting. 
Thou art as one of the shadows which sometimes float 
through the mind in a dream. Thou dost perform thy 
part sometimes well and sometimes ill in thy brief 
career, but which leaves an indelible mark upon thy 
spirit for its entrance into another state. And when 
thy fevered existence hath closed, and thy spirit hath 
mounted up, up, higher into the vast creation above 
thee — the spirit-world— then will thine eyes be opened, 
then shalt thou see as much more of the glory and 
sublimity of the works of thy Creator, as thy spirit is 
able to bear. For according to thy earthly life, wilt 
thou be more or less able to partake of its greatness. 
And now, if thy soul hath become so quickened and 
expanded in its spirit-light, thou shalt be taken by the 
hand by one of the white-robed angels, and he will 
show thee of the glory and majesty of the kingdom of 
thy Creator. He willl point thee to worlds rolling in 
space upheld by his will, dazzling in their light 
because of their nearness, because of their purity, and 
because of the smile of the Most High God which ever 
shineth upon them. And he will show thee blazing 
suns, one of whose glorious rays would outshine thy 
earthly luminary. And he will show thee moons and 
stars, whose beauty and splendor thou hadsfc never 
conceived of ; and oceans, whose waters are so pure 



INSIGNIFICANCE OF MAN. 267 

and placid in that spiritual land, that angels soar over 
and dip their wings, and then are refreshed by drinking 
of their waters ; and mountains, whose tops thou canst 
not reach with thy puny gaze. 

Oh, how vast and broad, how illimitable and grand 
beyond the greatest conceptions of all earth's children, 
is the length and breadth of the universe — the spirit- 
world — which lies just beyond your own ! And verilj 
when thy soul hath entered its precincts, thou wilt fall 
down and worship. And in thy deep humility thou 
wilt say : "I was naught but a worm of earth. I was 
no better than a clod of the valley, therefore give me 
strength and wisdom, that I may praise thee in all thy 
works, O my Father !" 



268 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XLIY. 



CAPABILITIES OF THE SOUL. 

New York, June 22, 1S54. 

As the stars differ from each other in brightness and 
magnitude, so is every soul like the many surrounding 
it, even when it first emanates from the bosom of its 
Creator or parent. Some souls, it would seem, have 
already traveled half their journey, when they fir'st 
become intelligent thinking beings upon earth. The 
clearness and capability of their thought, the beauty 
and strength of their understanding making the hearts 
of all glad who are near them. Such souls, my friends, 
have passed through refining processes before they 
reached your sphere, and are only continuing the 
brightness of the link which binds them so closely 
to their home above. They are like bright sparks 
emanating from the pleasant smile of the Deity himself. 
They seem to keep up the connection more untainted 
and beautiful between man and his Maker, for the lov- 
ing spirit looks with gladsome, and yet pitying eyes 
upon all of his Fathers children, whether happy or un- 
happy. And the child's first book is constantly spread 
out before 'his eyes in the great face of nature. The 
pictures which adorn its pages have all been placed there 
by the Father's hand, and by the Father's love, and the 



CAPABILITIES OF TIIE SOUL. 269 

progressed soul feels this love, even within his breast. 
It is either filling him with emotions of thankfulness 
and love to his Maker, or he is pained and sorrowing to 
behold the wretchedness and misery of his brothers and 
sisters. And looking abroad, he beholds the need of 
labor. That soul sees the distance, the dark and for- 
bidding distance, which lies between the Father and a 
portion of his children, and then he feels that there is a 
want of confidence, of trust, of faith, of hope. He sees 
the ignorance of those beneath him, who yet claim 
kindred with him ; and he sees the clear and shining 
light above him, falling like gentle dew upon his own 
heart, and yet they know not how to partake of it. This 
is the feeling which first stirs up the energies of his na- 
ture. This gives more strength and endurance to the 
soul grasping for something higher and better. For the 
soul which drinks deeply at the fountain of love and 
wisdom, is ever thirsting for more and more of its pure 
and refreshing w r aters, and the God-like attributes which 
lie slumbering in the soul become aroused, and stretch- 
ing forth his arm, his heart is filled to overflowing with 
love to his fellow-man. He feels there is a great and 
mighty labor to perform, and he feels the whole respon- 
sibility of that labor resting upon himself, and there is 
no peace or contentment in the soul, only when he is 
laboring for those souls who are still slumbering in tho 
darkness of the night beneath him. These heaven-sent 
aspirations raise him up higher and higher, until he 
stands face to face, and communes with the angels. A 
glorious thrill of pleasure seems to pervade his whole 
being, as with new light and strength the soul is ex- 
panding '? The new-born nature is raising it up. He 



270 THE FUTUEE LIFE. 

has forgotten the trifles and vexations of earth, for he 
has toiled, he has gazed upon the unfolding beauty of 
heaven, and his heart has become as a green field filled 
with flowers, whose sweet perfume is giving him new 
strength and manhood. He stretches forth his hands, 
and he feels so strong and so firm in his newly devel- 
oped strength that he can grasp the universe. And 
thus he lives mayhap a short life here, but one full of 
high and noble aspirations, and goes down to the grave 
with many plans, which, had they been carried out, would 
have made mankind happier and better. But does his 
work end here ? has he but lived to have his soul made 
almost delirious with dreams of happiness to come to 
his fellow-man, never to be realized '? Oh, no ; he but felt 
the longings of his nature; his soul beat its wrings 
against its prison-house, vainly U> be free; to do all 
which it saw in the glorious future, and to become that 
which it felt it must become ere its work was finished. 
And now he has entered the spirit-world in the midst 
of all these dreamings, and he looks around amazed and 
astonished, for it is indeed a world of reality and action. 
It is neither composed of clouds nor ethereal substances, 
but it is a world whose governments and laws are those 
which must be upheld and conformed to by every soul 
who abides in that place. There are other labors to be 
performed than those of reclining on beds of sweet flow- 
ers, and gazing upon the never-fading beauties of the 
scene, of listening to music made by the angels, and to 
be fanned by the zephyrs of heaven. This is all beau- 
tiful and high-sounding ; it all exists, and may be at- 
tained ; but this is not the sole object of the immortal 
soul ; ease and enjoyment are not among the attributes 



CAPABILITIES OF THE SOUL. 271 

or occupations which employ the time of those who are 
laboring for immortality. The progressed soul, upon 
whom the light of wisdom has dawned, looks not upon 
these sensual (for they are sensual) as the highest en- 
joyments of heaven. He can realize how far the soul 
begins to feel the capability residing within him, when 
the spirit may gaze upon spiritual things. Why, the 
first glance of the enlightened spirit is so grand, so com- 
prehensive, is so unlike any thing his eyes beheld while 
on earth, that his soul instantly begins to expand. It 
has hitherto been too small, too narrow, too contracted, 
to see magnificence or beauty upon a higher scale than 
earth presented. But now, his soul does not shrink, it 
does not fall into nothingness upon beholding the works 
of the Father ; but it begins to expand, he begins to 
feel in his own bosom a world as large, ay, larger, for 
he is beginning to look up to see if there are any worlds 
larger than that upon which he is at a level with. Now 
that soul feels already that the world within him is as 
large as that which he left below. He feels that a 
mighty, a godlike power resides within him. He is 
firm and strong because he looketh right up and fixeth 
his gaze upon the Father with a child-like confidence — 
with a child's trust. And the great laws of nature are 
all becoming unfolded to his vision, and he sees and 
feels that he can understand them. ■ He is now a fully 
developed spirit ; he is now prepared to take his place 
with others who have perhaps been there many, many 
years, and he at once feels that he is an individualized 
being, that he must stand alone and do his work unaid- 
ed, except by the kindly counsel and advice of others. 
But he is raised at once, as it were, from the plane of 



272 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

earth to the second sphere. He is now capable of lead- 
ing others, and he now begins his work of redeeming 
the souls whom he is fitted to approach. He is listened 
to and sought after because of the wisdom which falls 
from his lips. A glow of light and jo ; y surrounds his 
person wherever he may move, because he is perform- 
ing a great and noble task. He is re-creating. He is 
molding over the souls — those which contained so small 
a spark of intelligence ; he is breathing into other souls 
life and animation ; he is divesting them of the heavy 
envelopes of darkness which they had long slumbered 
in. Why 5 there are immortal souls in the spheres who 
scarcely know or understand yet, the meaning of the 
words " Our Father." No, a soul which has been 
touched by the divine power of life, which has been 
bathed in the sea of spiritual love, which has been 
brightened by wisdom, must descend down below and 
bring up from their slumbers the almost darkened soul. 
And that soul is now more fitted to approach this wan- 
derer than those who have come into the spirit-world, 
babes as it were, not having attained their manhood. 
They know not how to pity earth's children ; their de- 
velopment has been of a different nature. And now 
that soul appears as a god of light and wisdom to 
many. For them who need a tangible god, he is indeed 
gentle and kind, and they are gradually led upward and 
onward until the faint spark which they called soul has 
become larger and brighter, and finally they are brought 
to understand that God is a Spirit pervading and beau- 
tifying all who know that he is none other than their 
Father. And still the soul has only commenced its pro- 
gression even thus far. In developing others it becomes 



CAPABILITIES OF THE SOUL. 273 

developed itself, and it progresses on from one experi- 
ence to another, coming out each, time brighter and 
purer, giving evidence of its fitness for ascending at 
some future time, and leaving its labors behind it, to 
enjoy in purity and holiness that sphere whose inhabit- 
ants are but the rarefied essences of spiritual intelli- 
gences, and lost in the mazes of endless eternity. 



274 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XLV. 

THE SKEPTIC. 
July 31, 1854. 

I am wandering in a dark and lonely place. I see 
no other human being save myself; there is no light to 
guide me on my way but that which comes from a few 
straggling, distant stars. The road is uneven, and 
overgrown by brambles and briers, which impede my 
progress at every step I take, causing me pain and 
vexation. I can not understand why it is that I am 
left alone to wander through this gloomy, death-like 
valley. I hear the wind rustling among the trees, but 
it does not cool my brow nor give comfort to my heart. 
I hear the rushing of waterfalls, but they sound so dis- 
tant to my ear, that it might be a dream for aught I 
know. Shall I never get through this rugged place and 
tread again upon the smooth, green earth ? It seems to 
me that a great change has passed over my being within 
a short space of time. It was but yesterday that I lived 
upon earth, surrounded by those who loved me and 
whom I loved. I cared not for the future, I believed 
not in the reality of a future, in the existence of a 
supreme being whom men call God. What cared I 
for the future ? It was naught but a blank, for I 
thought I should pass away even as the grass and the 



THE SKEPTIC. 275 

flowers, and be forgotten among the decaying mass of 
corruption. And I hardened my heart to every whis- 
pering and invitation which would come, in spite of 
my efforts, to draw forth my soul from its darkness and 
lethargy. But suddenly the spirit takes its flight from 
the body — that spirit which I had supposed was but a 
part, and could not exist longer without the body, but 
which I now found suddenly detached from it. And I 
am sorely amazed and troubled. I had not surmised 
such a thing as this could occur. I have lost the body 
that served me upon earth, but here I find another. It 
seems I have but cast off an outer covering and stand 
revealed in an inner covering. Where will I go, or 
what shall I do ? I have no desire to be here. I have 
no affinities connected with this place. If the sun would 
shine pleasantly upon me, so that I could see my way, 
I should not feel so dreary and lost. I have left earth, 
and yet I tread upon earth again ! Another earth, a 
real earth, as real as that which I left, but still very 
different ; as different seems this earth to me as the 
new body which contains the same spirit. But the 
feeling which possesses me at this moment is horrible ! 
"What have I to look forward to, to hope for, to wish 
for ? I never believed in a hereafter, and shall I be 
forced to believe it now? Of what avail then was all 
the reasoning and strength of my manhood's will which 
shut out the future as an empty nothing — a shadow 
which frightened children and weak-minded people ! 
No, I won't believe it yet ! I am dreaming ! This hid- 
eous nightmare will pass away, and I shall wake up 
again to the world and myself. I could not be deceived 
a whole lifetime, for did I not study into all the nrts 



27b THE FUTURE LIFE. 

and sciences ? I was even called a profound philoso- 
pher, but my researches penetrated not to the interior 
world, to invisible things. I could gaze upon the stars, 
but I could not grasp them in my hand, nor could I 
climb up to other orbs and tell their inhabitants that 
we no longer doubted their existence, that our eyes had 
gazed upon their worlds, and taken cognizance of their, 
revolutions. I studied the mysteries of the stars, but 
they gave me no answer of the future, they revealed to 
me no brightness save their own pure light. I searched 
deep into the bowels of the earth, that I might gaze 
upon her concealed treasures, but I heard no echo there 
to tell me of the future. I w r atched the sands on the 
sea-shore, and I listened to the voice of the mighty deep, 
but to me they spoke not of the future. I but saw that 
man was born, that he lived and died, that he fell and 
was forgotten, that he passed away as every thing in 
nature, for I in my blindness would not see farther than 
the surface. I turned not within to question the depths 
of my own spirit for a response to the great theme 
which had filled my soul with so many surmises. I 
could ascend to the summit of the lofty mountain, and 
the silence and grandeur spoke to my heart with a 
strange and solemn voice, and yet I could see or feel 
naught but the sublimity of nature, but the harmony 
which had become mellowed and developed into beauty 
and symmetry by the increasing hand of time and cir- 
cumstance. My soul said to itself, If there is a God, 
why does he not work some especial miracle and show 
himself in some particular character ? I could not 
imagine him to be a creature of like attributes and im- 
perfections as myself. I saqroed to believe there was 



THE SKEPTIC. 277 

so capricious a God as the Christian world would have 
me believe. I communed deeply and silently with my 
own heart, and I knew if there was a God. he was far 
superior to the highest conceptions of any being whom 
I had met with, and who were animated by his spirit 
and claimed to be an emanation from him. My soul 
asked for more than it received, because I knew not 
where to seek it, for I sought it among the children of 
men until I had to turn away sickened and disgusted 
by their menial worship and slavish blindness, for my 
soul felt that if such a Being could exist, he must be 
great and glorious in the attributes and power of his 
works. And if his power and mercy and love were so 
boundless as that which they claimed for him, I knew 
that they lived far beneath their privileges. Oh, I 
looked upon them as a narrow-minded, weak, puny, 
abject set, who knew not as much of the Being whom 
they professed to worship, as the little child did of the 
parents whom lie loved. And I earnestly desired to 
know of a certainty if there was a Being whose dwell- 
ing-place was on high, and whose mandates were those 
of love, and justice, and truth. I yearned for a higher, 
a nobler communion than my soul could find among 
men. When alone in the midst of nature there was a 
great«ess of soul came over me, as it were, and carried 
me up and abroad, and unutterable things seemed to 
fill my spirit with a great and overwhelming power ; 
but oh, still I could not take hold of any thing tangible. 
I could not see the Beino; whom I wished to see, and yet 
I saw his works all about me. But my soul craved a 
material God, the external manifestation of a Being 
whom I might approach and worship in my own way. 



278 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

I understood not the worship of the spirit, the commun- 
ing of man's immortal spirit with that of his Maker, 
unseen and unheard save by himself. I could not com- 
prehend it, so sensuous were my feelings in regard to 
every thing I could not see and feel. And now I know 
that my heart was tilled with a melody and harmony of 
the works of my Father. And yet I knew it not at 
the time, for the great voice of universal nature was 
more in accordance with the askings of my spirit than 
a communion with my fellow-man. And now I know 
that I myself shut out the beautiful light of eternity 
which was forcing and struggling its way into my soul. 
I know that I lost the heaven which might have been 
mine upon earth, by the hardness and materiality of 
my nature. I plumed myself upon my great knowl- 
edge of the mysteries of every thing in nature w T hich had 
been revealed to the eye of man ; and I said within 
myself, If there is a God greater than nature, more pro- 
found and mysterious than any thing which I have yet 
seen, let him reveal himself to me and then I will wor- 
ship him. O mistaken man! blind, ignorant being 
that I was, for the little child knew more of the nature 
of God in its loving little heart than I did in my long 
study and research. I labored and searched so deeply 
to find the God which I sought, that I lost sight of 
him entirely, and was only burying myself among dust 
and rubbish, without profit and without satisfaction, 
for at length I believed that if I, who had labored so 
earnestly to find the one I sought, and could not, he 
surely could be nothing but a myth, a shadow, to those 
who were always claiming his presence and protecting 
care, and seeing him in all things, whether in the 



% THE SKEPTIC. 279 

heavens above or the earth beneath. Such a faith satis- 
fled them, but not me, for I felt that the blind were but 
making others blind and leading them into the same 
darkness in which they dwelt themselves. And yet I had 
f^reat and mighty thoughts, thoughts so great that they 
would find no response in the hearts of those about me. 
And my soul was filled with human love and kindness, 
but I called it nothing more than the love of one being 
for another, the natural feeling which should animate 
every human heart. My love was strong, but not great, 
it was from and of God, but I kept it in such narrow, 
earthly bounds that it could not expand, nor flash back 
as a reflection from the courts of heaven. And I lived 
to satisfy my earthly ambition, for I had no desire be- 
yond it. I sought no other honor but that of outstrip- 
ping my fellow-man in his knowledge and accumulation 
of those things which were unknown to the great mass 
of the people. My life had not been an aimless one, for 
I had accomplished that which I had lived for and 
desired to accomplish. I had been the means of con- 
ferring some of the benefits of science and philosophy 
on the age in which I lived, and so far as that extended 
I was satisfied, but there w^as a restlessness, an uneasy 
feeling about my heart. It would come as an unbidden 
guest, and stay with me, and trouble me strangely and 
mysteriously. There was a void within, a thirst for 
something which I had never yet tasted. There was 
an empty chamber in my heart which had never been 
filled by the guest whose privilege it was to enter it ; 
and although my earthly prospects were all pleasant 
and satisfying, and such as a man might feel who had 
done his duty and was ready to die and be forgotten, 



2S0 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

yet, oh yet, that restless, hungry feeling out into the 
dark future, mysterious and strange as it seemed to me 
then ! My soul felt that it had some great travail to 
undergo, and yet I knew not what. Oh, the feeling, the . 
reaching, the piercing, uncertain doubts which would 
intrude themselves upon my presence ! But I died as I 
had lived, nor no man knew that a shadow of uncer- \ 
tainty had swept across my soul as to the future. My • 
spirit departed calmly and quietly from its clayey 
temple. And when consciousness returned, and when 
I looked upon that portion of earth in which my spirit 
had been wrapped, I gazed and gazed as if I should 
gaze forever, for I felt now why my soul had been 
putting forth her feelers. I now knew why the space 
had been empty and the longing had remained unsatis- 
fied. Oh, that moment of amazement and concentrated 
wonder ! My knowledge availed me nothing. There I 
stood, helpless and impotent as a little child. I had 
doubted the future, but I was compelled to enter its 
mysterious portals, and peer into the depths which 
were opening before me. Tain, foolish man, who 
thinkest thou art wiser than thy Maker ! And now, I 
was all at once enveloped in a cloud of uncertainty and 
doubt most saddening to my soul. I had never search- 
ed beyond the confines of time, and here I stood igno- 
rant and helpless, and if I stepped I stumbled, and if I 
stood still I wondered. What were my aims and 
desires ? Alas ! I had none. I had laid out no path 
to travel in, I had no chart to guide my way in that 
land of clouds and doubt to mo. I was as sensible of 
my situation as I could be, and yet what could I do ? 
1 now must seek a place, must do something for myself, 



THE SEXP7IC. 281 

for I see no assistance here. My body, I had forgotten 
it already. What cared I, for the past was behind me, 
not forgotten, but the present was now filled with 
thrilling interest and import to me. I was in the 
future, but the future was before me combined with 
the present, and how unprepared was I to cope with its 
mysteries. I struggled along, faltering and turning at 
every step, wondering where the path led to out of that 
gloomy valley, for surely it was the very place of the 
shadow of death. ITo glad sounds met my ear, but an 
awful sense of loneliness weighed down my spirit. I 
knew not w^here I w~as going, but I could not turn 
back. I knew that I was liying, that my body was a 
tangible body, that! trod upon a tangible earth, for I 
could see and feel them both. 

But after a long period of time had passed away in 
this gloomy place, I earnestly wished I might see other 
beings of intelligence and like sympathy with mine, the 
solitude was so depressing. It now seemed as if my 
journey was coming to an end, for I had traveled in 
this rugged path until I had become so weary and so 
lonely that any change were preferable to this place. 
I approached a large opening in which the road seemed 
to have become lost. As I gazed ahead, a wide country 
w*as spread out before me, diversified with hills, dales, 
and valleys, and many pleasant (and it seemed almost 
familiar) sights now met my eye. I could now hear 
the pleasant song of the birds. I could now pick the 
flowers by the wayside. I could cool my thirst at the 
brook which ran past me smiling at the sky. Words 
can not express to you the joyous feeling which filled 
my heart as the pleasant sight met my eyes. How 



282 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

glad and beautiful every tiling looked, and how 
pleasant and joyful the scene made me feel ! I looked 
still longer, and beheld a large company of people who 
were apparently engaged in some general employment. 
They were making many gestures, and showed by 
their looks that feelings of happiness and content- 
ment were predominant in their bosoms. The sight 
of my fellow-man had never gladdened me so much 
before, for I felt within me that there were beings like 
myself, and my sympathy drew me toward them. 
Slowly and wearily I approached, but my heart was 
not so sad as my loaks would denote, the pleasant sight 
which surrounded me raised me up from despair and 
doubt to hope and strength. Seeing a weary -looking 
stranger approach them, some of the company ceased 
from their labors and spoke kindly to me. They in- 
quired from whence I came (for they perceived that I 
had not been long a dweller there), and how it was that 
I should be unattended by any kind friend to show me 
the way. I told them I had a short time ago left earth. 
I had made a great and unexpected change, and had 
entered this land in utter ignorance and unbelief in 
every thing pertaining to it. I told them all my feel- 
ings, my whole history. They crowded around me 
with pitying looks and gestures, and wished to help me, 
to ease me of my weariness and sadness. They gave 
me strange information. They here spoke of a God, 
lovingly and joyfully ; they adored him, they called 
him Father. They believed that every good thing was 
given them by that Father, and in their joyous looks 
and laughter they praised him. They pitied me so 
much, for they said where should they place me who 



THE SKEPTIC. 283 

had no conception of the goodness or existence of a God, 
where should I dwell. For, said they, his presence 
permeates all space, and boundless as it is, so that 
mortal eye can not scan it, that mortal strength may 
not explore it, yet thy feet can find no resting-place but 
where our Father's spirit dwells. They asked me if 
my heart was not a withered, shrunk-up thing, or how 
I could have lived without feeling that divine power 
within me. 

And bright and beautiful little children gazed upon 
me with kindly looks, and talked of their Father, God. 
Oh, they glorified their Father in the beauty of their 
innocence. 

I stood among them alone ; how could I be otherwise 
when they all felt that they had a Father and I had 
none ! for I bad not been willing to receive him as such. 
They begged me to lay aside this cold and earthly 
mantle of materiality 'which I bore about me. They 
begged me to become simple and trusting, and they 
pointed to their beautiful home, which their Father had 
provided for them in his boundless love for his 
children. 

And one spirit among them, who seemed to be filled 
with the fullness of love and wisdom combined, for it 
sparkled forth from his eyes and caused his face to 
shine, and gave his whole appearance an indescribable 
air of majesty and solemnity blended, spoke to me and 
said : u A new book is opened before thee ; the world of 
w T hose existence thou hast doubted, and the God whose 
love thou hast slighted, are now realities in thine eyes. 
Thou art more to be pitied than blamed, thou didst shut 
out the peace and joy of heaven on earth from thy soul 



284. THE FUTURE LIFE. 

by thy cold, hard skepticism and materiality ; thou 
didst refuse to adore thy Maker in his works, even 
when the harmony came to thy soul with a voice of 
peace and music soft and deep as thy soul itself; thou 
didst but call it an idle thought, a work of circumstance, 
of time and chance, perhaps, making thyself less in the 
scale of intelligence than the little birds, for even they 
warble forth their songs joyous and happy as they fly 
upward. Thy heart refused a song of joy to thy 
Father, and therefore thy soul shut itself up in darkness. 
The labors of thy earth-life were of earth, but some- 
thing nobler and higher was within thee, something per- 
taining to the hereafter of thy being ; thou didst feel it, 
didst hear it beating against the windows of thy soul, but 
refused it entrance, losing all of heaven there and much 
here. It is not so hard to find a Father, when his care 
and love is constantly reminding us of his presence, 
and his works speak ever in his praise. Thou hast 
created for thyself a hard journey, for inasmuch as thou 
couldst not be persuaded while on earth, thou wilt find 
like trouble here ; and until thou canst become trusting 
as a little child, and break down those hard, stern 
barriers which have hedged about thy soul so long that 
there is scarcely an entrance to be found, thou wilt 
have to labor and struggle and break them away one 
after another thyself. Thou canst not enjoy this place 
with us ; thou art unfitted for such a one. We will 
lead thee to a place which will be more in accordance 
with thy feelings, and friends will come to thee, and 
teach thee the simple language of heaven when thou art 
ready to receive them. And when thy soul has broken 
her adamantine chains, when it is melted with love and 



THE SKEPTIC. ' 285 

gratitude to thy heavenly Father who has revealed to 
thee thy ignorance, and when thou art ready to be 
joyous and happy, come to us and we will introduce 
thee to those whose souls have penetrated far deeper 
into the mysteries of heaven than even thine did into 
those of earth, and whose wisdom will show thee how 
to apply and make useful all which thou hast learned. 
They will give thee new lessons, and thy soul may 
exult and revel in knowledge, for the field before thee 
is boundless. But thou canst not start without the 
great talisman, which is the love of Gocl shed abroad 
in thy heart, the desire to assimilate with the spirits of 
the pure and good. And thus shalt thou still be 
ascending nearer to the presence of thy God, with his 
love filling and beautifying thine inmost heart," 

I thank thee, O my Father! it is even so, for al- 
though the heavens and earth might pass away, I feel 
that thy love is strong and enduring within my grateful 
heart. And I am but passing up higher to feel its 
fullness more fully. A glad song of joy greets me now. 
I am in the midst of brethren and sisters, and I join 
with them in their song as I leave you. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XLVI. 

REALITIES OF SPIRIT-LIFE. 

Given, September 14, 1854. 

Inquiring Friends — I will tell you what has been 
shown me; what I have seen, and felt, and heard ; but 
I do not think it will apply to all states of spirit-life or 
all developments of spirit-mind. No spirit can speak 
for the whole spirit- world, for none have yet explored 
its manifold mysteries and glorious grandeur in all its 
vast magnitude of space. "No spirit has ever yet spoken 
to you, but who has given to you an idea of some use- 
fulness, or imparted to you that knowledge which they 
had gained themselves. All may contribute to the 
general mass of information, but be guided by none 
who say they know all, for they have only seen, even 
in the space of many centuries, a small, a very small, 
portion of the works of the Creator. And they who 
stand highest in the scale of elevation and purity are 
always those who speak most earnestly of their igno- 
rance and limited knowledge of the great and eternal 
future which lies beyond them. They it is who feel 
how little they really know, and how much they have 
to learn. They have lived to see and realize the wide 
river which flows between knowledge and ignorance — 
how great is the space between the mind of man in his 



REALITIES OF SPIRIT-LIFE. 287 

ignorance and blindness while here, and the spirit's 
knowledge and light when it has been permitted to 
look upward in its progressive path. It is then the 
enlightened soul is filled with pity and love, and turns 
downward to earth in sympathy with its kindred spirits 
in mortal form, to raise them up to the level which it 
is their privilege to enjoy. Knowledge of all kinds is 
necessary, and the spirit-world is bountifully able to 
supply every lack to every mind, commencing with the 
material and reaching up to the spiritual in its most 
refined essences, even as far as the soul of man is able 
to penetrate. And thus when the material spirit enters 
his spirit-home, he is met by those whose developments 
are consistent with his own. By them he is clothed 
and fed in like manner as themselves ; he being only 
fitted or developed to enjoy material or external things, 
his first ideas and faculties are wholly engrossed by 
those things most nearly corresponding with his earth- 
life. And those very things are so constructed (and 
upon such principles) as to draw forth the hidden and 
slumbering faculties within him, and which have not 
been used, but have lain dead and slumbering from the 
hour of his birth, lie finds no idle moments, but he 
must pursue some occupation, some duty, which will 
make him useful to himself and those about him. lie 
finds it as necessary to labor there as here. But man 
there labors on very different principles from those 
which actuated him here. There, all things are made 
with a view to something higher, something which will 
serve as a spur — will act as a force upon the worker. 
And so the material soul, while working off its material 
nature, is gradually becoming merged into the spiritual, 



258 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

until the grossness of the external ceases to be inviting, 
and he gradually leaves those things behind him which 
had at first gained such interest in his thoughts, and 
looks for the beauty and harmony with which only 
the spirit can clothe its fair proportions ; and then he 
becomes highly useful in the society in which his affini- 
ties have drawn him. Perhaps he is gifted by nature 
to perform some task which those around him are not 
able to perform, and thus he fills a sphere of usefulness, 
by making those around him. happy by his labor and 
industry. And all individuals are thus gifted, are ex- 
celling in some things, whereby they add to each other's 
happiness and progression. The employment which 
man's material development had especially fitted him 
for, is that which he is attracted to, and which he may 
excel in. "Without the mechanical part of our faculties 
we should be imperfect ; thus we possess them all when 
we enter the spirit-world of course, and do not lose any 
part of that which nature gave us when she sent us 
into being here ; and circumstances have so turned 
aside the inclination of many, that they have never 
been enabled to exercise or find use for any of those 
faculties winch nature gave them to use. But when 
they enter the spirit-world, they are each placed in the 
department which is best suited to their mental and 
physical capacities. Thus both the material and spirit- 
ual become harmoniously developed, fitting them to 
impart to those who come after them the same advan- 
tages which they have reaped. The whole family of 
mankind is but one continuous chain, beginning with 
the lowest link and reaching up into the infinity of the 
eternal, but all connected and depending upon each 



REALITIES OF SPIRIT-LIFE. 289 

other. They can not be divided ; it is a necessity as 
well as a law, and it has ever worked in beauty and 
harmony, and will eventually bring the meanest slave 
who walks the earth, from the lowest depths of devel- 
opment into the unending march of progression, into 
the light of the smile of God. 



13 



290 THE FTJTUKE LIFE. 



CHAPTEE XLVIL 



THE CONVICT. 



September 18, 1S54. 

This evening, Mrs. Hemans came and influenced Mrs. Sweet, and said 
to us : — 

Look with me, and see that pale, trembling spirit who 
has but lately left its body. That body was clothed in 
a convict's garb, and its last home on earth was the cell 
of a prison. He committed crimes against the laws of 
his country, and was condemned to suffer a punishment 
of solitude and hard labor, uncheered by any kindly 
voice — no friendly eye to look upon him in his hours of 
loneliness and heart-breaking anguish. Poor spirit ! 
bitterly has he repented, while in the form, of all his 
errors and misdeeds. On his knees, and in the humility 
of his soul, has he sought of his Maker to pardon the 
faults of his youthful days. His childhood was joyous 
and pleasant ; his heart was light and glad as any 
among us, but his trusting spirit was taken possession 
of and led by stronger wills than his own, and he was 
made to commit those errors which hastened his spirit 
from out the body. 

Here she said that she should have to let the spirit speak for himself 
as she could not speak for him further; accordingly she withdrew her 
influence, and the stranger spirit spoke through the medium as fol- 
lows : — 



THE CONVICT. 291 

If you want me to tell of my sufferings, I am sure I 
can do it, for God knows I remember them so well, that 
they will never be erased from my memory. They said 
I committed a grave crime, and perhaps I did. I knew 
it to be a crime, although I committed it in a moment of 
thoughtlessness and folly, more for the love of mischief 
than the sin of it. I had no thought of what the con- 
sequences would be. My older companions urged me 
on and called me cowardly, because I at first shrunk 
from applying the match which destroyed the dwelling 
of a worthy family, and burned one of their children. 
How I shudder while I think that I was the cause of 
that awful death ! They took me to prison. They 
found me guilty. I knew I was guilty ; I did not 
deny it ; and bitter, scalding tears coursed down my 
cheeks when I thought of the little innocent whose 
death I had caused. I cared not for myself or what 
became of me. They told me I must go to prison, for 
how many years I can not tell, but it was very, very 
many, and my weeping friends bade me farewell, those 
who were not ashamed to be seen speaking to me, and 
others looked at me in pity and shook their heads. My 
brain was in a whirl ; I felt as though I was going to 
be transported to some distant country, where I would 
never see home or friends again. But that dreadful 
load of guilt lay heavily at my heart. That little child ! 
She had been a playmate of mine, and one of my com- 
panions had made me the instrument of consummating 
the vengeance which he was afraid to take, for some 
petty spite which he had against the father. 

When they shut me up in the cold, gloomy, lonely 
cell, I threw myself down and prayed that I might 



292 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

never remember my former life. I but wished that a 
sea of forgetf illness would roll over me and the past, 
because nothing but that could reconcile me. But this 
was. not to be. I had to think; oh ! I had to think. I 
had to remember every thing distinctly that passed in 
that dreadful excitement. And then I felt wronged. 
Bitter and passionate feelings stirred within me against 
those who had instigated me to commit such an awful 
crime. I felt as if I was guilty, and yet only guilty 
through another's guilt, who had thought and meant 
worse than I. How useless were all these pleadings in 
my own behalf! — there was nothing before me but a 
gloomy prospect for many years to come. Oh ! the 
horrors of that hour when I first realized my situation. 
I, in a felon's cell, dressed in a convict's garb, and com- 
pelled to labor with a chain attached to my person. I 
determined to kill myself. I could not live, the thought 
was so horrid. Life was but just opening before me in 
bright and gorgeous colors, and now a dark veil had fallen 
between me and the light of the world, and I should 
have to spend the best years of my manhood in solitary 
confinement, working harder than a slave. "Worse, 
ten thousand times worse than a slave's was my condi- 
tion. When the strong agony had passed over my soul I 
became hardened. I cared not what passed. I took no 
note of the day or night. I worked and lived a nearly 
mechanical life. I felt dead to every thing around me ; 
there were no more tears left to shed, there was nothing 
to look for, to hope for ; all was dreary, all was blank. 
Thus I lived for a long time. Nor blows nor threats 
could arouse me — nothing could affect me, so strong and 
hard had my nature become, for I had determined that 



THE CONVICT. 293 

outward circumstances should not bend or break my 
spirit. It was a stern and unrelenting desire not to 
feel the chains which were galling me. 

But how little man knows of his own spirit. How 
incapable he is of knowing what lie may be able to 
bear, and how long he will prove impregnable to those 
feelings which animate the breasts of all the human 
family. My resolutions gradually grew weaker, and 
my will less strong. I began to yearn for some pitying 
heart to turn to. There was none to listen to my pray- 
er, none to wipe away my tears, and my heart melted 
down until it became as weak as a little child's. Oh ! 
how I wished to see the face of a friend. What sick- 
ness of heart came over me, and no kindly hand was 
there to be laid on my head, but only the cold, stony 
wall to support it. It was in vain for me to ask or pray 
for my earthly friends, for I could not see their faces. 
And then I strove to pray to God ; then I bent low in 
humility and sorrow, and confessed my sins, and prayed 
him to forgive me. I had felt so guilty before that I 
dared not pray ; but now there was something within 
me which seemed to tell me there was hope beyond the 
grave. When I had slumbered before, my dreams had 
been horrible; phantoms coming to upbraid me for my 
crimes, and I awakened, often grateful that all the 
dreadful scenes I had passed through were nothing but 
dreams. And now those dreadful shapes and phantoms 
had left me, and sweeter sleep had succeeded. As my 
heart had become softened within me, it seemed as 
though a bright and pleasant influence gradually fell 
upon me. My dreams became pleasant, and the little 
one whose death I was the means of, appeared to me 



294 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

in shining garments, and told me that her Father in 
heaven forgave me, and that I should come to her home 
and be with her. Ah ! that bright spirit made the poor 
prisoner's cell gleam and shine with heavenly light, for 
I felt that God had answered my prayer, that there was 
mercy even for me ; and when I slumbered it was with 
a prayer on my tongue of thankfulness to my Father in 
heaven for his forgiveness, which had brought peace 
and comfort to me in my lonely cell. That place which 
had appeared to me a living tomb, now became bright 
and pleasant in its gloom, and the words which were 
written in the Book of Life gave me hope and joy. 
And daily I prayed, and daily my body grew weaker ; 
•but my soul grew stronger, and I longed to leave the 
body behind. My thinking had brought me much 
benefit, for now my thoughts were pleasant and glad, 
for now I felt happy and joyful. There w T as a peaceful, 
happy feeling — there was a love which cast out fear, 
and I felt as if there were loving and protecting arms 
about me, even me. They told me I was dying, and 
oh ! how I rejoiced. I knew I was dying — I wanted to 
die, to embrace that little spirit who had told me of my 
Father's forgiveness. And when I passed from death 
unto life, there was none so near to take me by the 
hand as that happy little spirit. She told me that I 
should go with her, for I had repented of that I was 
punished for, and my punishment had been greater than 
my crime. She said there was no injustice there, that 
I should be able soon to outlive all recollection of my 
past misery in the life I was about to lead, and I should 
now see many who had been imprisoned as I was, for 
crimes which they had not been really guilty of. But 



. THE CONVICT. 295 

God who sees the heart would punish all according to 
their works, and not for those things which they have 
not committed ; but the real culprit will here also meet 
with his due reward. 

I find no prisons here — no stripes — no starvation, but 
kind spirits who pity me for having been led astray, and 
w r ho will assist me to retrieve that which was done, and 
prepare me to come back to the poor, weary, heart- 
broken prisoners, and when the time comes, to speak to 
them of the better life which is beyond the gloomy walls 
of a prison. Peace and hope will light up their sad 
and desponding hearts, for we are coming in a mighty 
strength and power to raise them from their stupor. 

P. S. — He told us that he had much more which he would like to say 
at some convenient time, and when we wanted him, to ask for Thomas 
Ellis, the convict. 



296 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTER XLVIIL 



THE SOUL 5 S ASPIRATIONS. 



There is a deep and solemn grandeur comes over 
the soul when contemplating* its futnre destiny. There 
h a feeling into the unknown sea which is rolling wave 
upon wave into the darkness of futurity, until lost from 
our view. We can follow it but a short distance, a very 
short distance, even with our spiritual eye, Soon we 
become lost amid its intricate mazes and winding turns. 
The spirit is too feeble, too undeveloped in its feeble 
strength, to walk far on the road beyond the grave, 
unaided by other influence. It may stretch forth its 
wings and soar up a little way, but soon it becomes 
weary and falls to earth, discouraged, and lost almost 
in the immensity of the opening view. 

Man may realize his position (in a great measure 
while here) to the world of spirits. He may commune 
with them in spirit while in the body ; he may partake 
of their thoughts and become imbued with many of 
their feelings and elevated desires; he may learn great 
and important truths connected with his spiritual un- 
folding, and he may earnestly desire to mingle with 
those who are his constant companions, even in their 
native home. But, oh, how very little man really 
knows of that world to which he is tending. lie can 



THE SOUL'S ASPIRATIONS. 297 

but learn correctly the great principles, which are as 
unchanging as the Deity himself. He can but grasp 
some of the lesser ideas which he is capable of contain- 
ing; but he can not, while on earth, tread the streets 
of the eternal world ; he can not be an inhabitant of 
their courts, he can not speak of things which pertain 
only to that place, for the knowledge which is vouch- 
safed to man is only for his spiritual unfolding, not for 
his material gratification. Sufficient for him should it 
be to know that his present abode is fair and beautiful, 
teeming with the necessaries of life and sustenance, if 
rightly applied. And things here are but given him 
to serve as incentives to draw forth the slumbering 
faculties of his mind. He is given an eye for beauty, a 
soul for melody, a heart for love. His present state 
and associations supply all these, in their external form. 
The refined essence of all these things lies buried deeply 
within, and if they are called forth, they are felt and 
needed in this outer temple. 

Blessed is that man, for he has had a foretaste of the 
second — the spiritual birth. So let not man vex or 
trouble his mind with external things, as connected with 
an internal world. Let it be sufficient that there is 
an inner and beautiful light; that there is u truthful 
means of arriving at wisdom, and to a knowledge of the 
laws which connect the intelligence of this sphere and 
the next together. And let his own heart be the recep- 
tacle into which this truth and harmony shall flow, for 
when it passes down to earth it sometimes becomes 
tainted with impurities and errors ere it reach the spot 
which it was intended for. 

Truth, although it comes robed in ten thousand errors, 

13* 



298 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

will be stripped naked, and stand forth in its purity 
and brightness, before it can sink deep into the heart, 
and raise up seed in the soul of man which shall bear 
and bloom forever. 



THE DYING GIRL. 299 



CHAPTER XLIX. 



THE DYING GIRL. 



November 15, 1354. 

Mrs. Sweet being influenced by Mrs. Hemans, the following was 
given through her : — 

I stand gazing upon the death-bed scene of a fair 
young girl. Life had become clad in roseate colors, 
and the future seemed fair and inviting, until disease 
fastened upon her delicate form and warned her that 
she must soon leave the scenes in which she had lived, 
surrounded by those who anticipated her every wish, 
to whom the tones of her voice were music, and her 
presence like that of some bright spirit who dispensed 
light and cheerfulness wherever it moved. And now 
the future seems opening to her view. The cold hand 
of death is upon her, and oh, how she hates to go ! She 
can not say farewell to her weeping friends. She goes 
unwillingly. Her life had been short and bright as 
that of the butterfly who has only reveled amid the per- 
fumed flowers, and drank the fresh dew of heaven out 
of their sparkling chalices. No rude storms of sorrow 
or despair had cast one^ shadow upon her young spirit's- 1 
gladness. Loving and beloved, she had trod the earth 
as the angels tread it, tasting its joys and ignorant of 
its sorrows. Then who would chide that young spirit 



6l)i) THE FUTURE LIFE. 

for wishing to linger where all invited her to stay ? As 
her spirit reluctantly left her form, I took her by the 
hand. Her friends, who stood around the lifeless hut 
still beautiful form, were uncontrollable in their grief, 
and those who had come to meet her at her entrance 
could find no welcome appropriate to offer so unwilling 
and sorrowing a spirit. They would have approached 
her and clasped her in their arms. They would have 
shed tears of joy and hopings over her, but her deep 
sorrows forbade their approach. They had been long 
in the spirit- world, and could scarcely understand why 
she experienced so much sorrow because of entering 
their happy dwelling-place. 

I spoke to her kindly, and told her she had made a 
good exchange. I described to her the life of useful- 
ness which she might lead, and the society of the pure 
and good which it was her privilege to enjoy. I strove 
to excite within her a desire to see and know those who 
were to be her future companions. To all I said she 
turned a deaf, unwilling ear, and only shook her head 
despondingly and pointed earthward. " Indeed," said 
she, "I have no desire to live in heaven. My dear 
friends whom I loved are all on earth, and I am sepa- 
rated from them by an impassable barrier. I care not 
how fair or inviting this world may be which you all 
seem to think so beautiful and these spirits so good ; 
they can not dry my tears, give me back my dear 
friends, nor transport me to that pleasant home where 
*all were smiling and happy. I yvas too young for death 
to claim. They said my form was fair to look upon — 
then why should I be called away when I was happy 
and made others so? I shall be very wretched here. 



THE DYIXG GIRL. SOI 

I shall weep all day ; for if your music is more beauti- 
ful than that we had on earth, it y> T ill serve but to 
remind me of the bygone happiness now lost to me 
forever. You have beautiful things of all kinds, I 
plainly see ; for as I gaze about me, the landscape 
seems to be some scene of fairy enchantment. I can 
not think it real, it is too transparently beautiful ; and 
those birds, and trees, and flowers, and sparkling waters, 
and those forms of exquisite beauty which are moving 
among those green and shady bowers clad in garments 
which look like clouds of light — these things can not 
be real. And those superb structures which I see, were 
never built by hands of man. They are so magnificent 
in their grandeur, and so beautifully proportioned, and 
composed of such exquisitely beautiful and sparkling 
materials, that they are too ethereal to be real ; they 
can be but unreal pictures of beauty presented to my 
yiew; and when approached I fear they would fade 
away from my sight. Every thing here is unreal. I 
seem so myself. It is dreadful to be thus mocked by 
so much beauty which lulls the senses as in some deli- 
cious dream, and yet is nothing more or less than a 
dream ; for I died, I left my home on earth, my body 
lies beneath the sod, and my poor, unhappy spirit is 
now looking about in vain for some reality, for some 
friendly, cheering voice to give me a hope, to lead me 
to some place, I know not where. I am so discontented, 
so unhappy. These spirits say they are my friends, 
they say they have always loved me. I do not remem- 
ber them, and yet they look kind and pleasant, and 
fain would have me go with them, but where? When 
I leave this place, I shall be going farther from earth 



302 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

than I am now ; my dear old home will be lost to me 
entirely. Oh, if I could live again on earth — go back 
to my friends, how glad I should be I" 

I gently put my arm around her neck and whispered 
softly in her ear, " You shall go back, my child." And 
oh ! what joyful, intense, and unbounded delight her 
countenance expressed. She clapped her hands, a 
smile radiated her countenance, and eagerly grasping 
my hands she exclaimed, " Can this be true?" " Yes, 
my child," I replied ; " but it depends on yourself 
whether you shall be worthy, and whether you can 
benefit your friends by returning. If you indulge this 
useless grief and despondency, you would make but a 
sorry comforter to return to your grief-stricken friends. 
Lift up your eyes and look abroad. You are in the 
home which you are fitted to enjoy by your affinities 
and higher development. Your spirit passed through 
its short dream of life unscathed by sin or sorrow ; no 
dark regrets need bar your progress to the reality of 
this happiness ; no bitter experience has made you 
fearful of entering with full zest into every worthy and 
useful acquirement which your spirit's appetite will 
now crave. The unreal and unsatisfying aspect of your 
newly-found home is because of the materialism and 
regrets of earth which still hang around you. You 
have to put away all selfish grief and useless repinings, 
and render yourself w r orthy to be one of those bright 
beings who seem to you but unreal forms. They are 
not so, my child, but they were once like you, dwellers 
in the form, and they have lived here many, many years. 
They possess warm and loving hearts ; gentle and 
affectionate in all their actions, they are ready, dear 



THE DYING GIRL. 303 

child, to teach you your duty ; they will become to you 
sisters and brothers, your friends and counselors, and 
the love which you bear to your friends on earth will 
become purer and deeper by associating with those gentle 
beings. But you speak of returning ; yes, you shall 
return when you have become happy and contented in 
your new abode, when you have learned some useful 
lesson, when you have accomplished some deed upon 
which your heavenly Father will cast his approving 
smile, and have shown by your earnest labor and 
humility that you can appreciate the glorious change 
which you have experienced, and can carry back to 
earth those truths. Why, then you will be permitted 
to return. For if you can not enjoy this place and this 
society, you will have to seek for companionship among 
those which are nearer earth, but which will not be 
congenial nor make you happy. Then you would be 
discontented, ever wishing to return to earth, and 
regretting that you could not penetrate farther into the 
beautiful land which you know lies beyond, which your 
spirit would feel was your true dwelling. Our spirit- 
life, my child, is made happy less or more by our own 
desires and our own struggles after those things which 
are within our reach. No enjoyment is given to us till 
we can truly appreciate its value ; no wisdom is unfolded 
to us until our spirit's yearning requires it to strengthen 
us in our eternal labor. Many bright and beautiful gifts 
are constantly before our eyes, but ere we obtain posses- 
sion of them we must deserve them ; we must feel within 
our own souls that they are truly that which we need, 
and then they beautify and gladden, then they add to 
our spirit's brightness and incite to further exertions 



304 THE FUTUEE LIFE. 

for those which are still beyond. When you have 
worthily arrayed yourself in those beautiful garments 
of wisdom, and become happy in the knowledge of 
your spirit's great enjoyment, then you will return to 
your friends, then you will draw near with words of 
peace and comfort. You will pour a balm into their 
sorrowing hearts, and their memory of you will be 
softened by your spirit's gentle consolations. You tell 
me they will not receive you. You are a spirit, and 
they can not behold you. Your voice will not be 
unheard. Your soft and loving caress wilL not be un- 
felt, and the strength of your love will enable you to 
speak to the core of their hearts in soft and gentle, but 
unmistakable tones, which will carry with them joy 
unspeakable. And w T hen they hear of spirits talking 
with their friends, it will sound strangely at first, but 
oh, how their hearts will yearn to know if they have 
talked with you, or if it has only been the mysterious 
shadows which dreams cast about the sleeping body 
but waking soul ! 

" Then how earnestly and patiently you will labor ! 
What great reward will there be ! what joy and glad- 
ness to know that you are welcome and recognized, 
and that where you left sorrow and deep grief, you can 
bring joy unspeakable, and more, my child, that yon 
can bring with you fair and beautiful companions, clad 
in radiant robes of light, who will help you to make 
your friends sensible of your presence ; and they will 
speak with you and for you in their silvery tones of 
advice and entreaty, that your friends will gaze heaven- 
ward, that the earth will to them become once more 
green and beautiful, because angels are walking among 



THE DYIXG GIRL. 305 

its children. Oh, then your love will draw those 
precious friends in the path which you have taken. 
The desire of their hearts will become deep and earnest 
to know more of the place where their loved ones are 
dwelling. And instead of looking upon the sad and 
gloomy parting, they will dwell with joyful anticipation 
upon the happy meeting. How they will love to com- 
mune with your spirit, to feel your presence, and how 
they will hate to grieve you, to wound your pure love 
by deed or word unfit for angel-hearts to know ! And. 
thus, my child, by the gentle efforts of your love, you 
may win those hearts from the cold atmosphere of their 
worldly surroundings, and open up within them a 
fountain of love and hope, and make them tit recipients 
for the wisdom from on high. And by thus being 
called away from your earthly home in the morning of 
its hope, its budding hope, you will learn to thank your 
heavenly Father that you were early taken into the 
company of pure and gentle spirits, and kept from the 
corroding influences which an earthly life would have 
cast around about you, and that by their happy and 
holy influences you were so developed and strengthen- 
ed as to have returned to the friends whom you loved 
so fondly, and have taken them by the hand and help- 
ed them to prepare while yet on earth to meet you, and 
to become experienced in the ways of wisdom, before 
they enter the spirit-world, so that they may be able to 
join you sooner than they otherwise would had they 
lived without this knowledge. You will have indeed 
saved them from many years of sorrow and regret, of 
suffering and retribution, which they must have experi- 
enced had not their eves been turned heavenward. 



306 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

Then be thankful and loving in your gratitude, that 
you have been made a redeeming spirit for those you 
loved, by the bright dwellers of * the heavenly spheres. 5 " 

She is bathed in tears as I conclude ; she clasps me^ 
lovingly to her bosom ; her apathy and sorrows have 
all fled ; joy, joy and bright hope are now hovering over 
her, and with eyes eagerly glancing upward she prays 
that Gocl will assist her in her weakness and helpless- 
ness. . And lo! a band of radiant ones gather round 
her, and in tones of softest music they cheer and en- 
courage her. With them she has left me to begin her 
work and to learn the realities of the spirit-land, to 
know the talents which are buried within her own 
soul yet to be revealed and made useful, and then to 
return to earth and perform her mission of being made 
a ministering spirit to those who are left behind. 

Since the latter glories of unfolding light have been 
revealed, much joy and great reward have been given 
to the spirits because they are known and recognized, 
and their love is felt and returned. The spirits and the 
mortals clasp each other in their arms, and the atmos- 
phere of heavenly wisdom is breathed through the 
loving spirits into the hearts of the hoping mortals. 



THE INNER TEMPLE. 307 



CHAPTER L. 



THE INNER TEMPLE. 



Xove?nber 30, 1S5-1. 



As the faded and dead leaves fall from the trees, 
leaving them bare and shadeless, so fall from man one 
after another the material links which serve to connect 
him to earth with a chain, which, if not rudely snapped 
asunder, might wrap him up within its strong coils, and 
he would forget that there was aught upon earth to live 
for, save the things of time and sense. It is better 
man's spirit should be cast down, that it may rise again; 
for then its growth will be quicker, and then the energy 
which hope gives will make it stand firmer and appre- 
ciate its own position more truly. It is not for men to 
look one upon another, for each must build for himself 
a temple of strength wherewith to cover himself, and 
to withstand the rude assaults of foreign foes — foes of 
his soul's peace and comfort, deceivers in the garb of 
friends. And his temple must needs be made with 
windows, transparent and deep, so that they may be 
used as eyes to penetrate into the hearts — yea, into the 
very inmost recesses of men's souls. The satisfaction 
and beauty of many material things will fade away, and 
appear as a dream of the past ; but there must be within 
every living soul, a still, deep fountain, ever bubbling in 



308 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

freshness and sweetness, giving food and drink, sustain- 
ing and making beautiful the temple which surrounds 
it. Make unto thyself a world of beauty within ; an 
inner life, a holy of holies, a sacred palace where none 
may intrude, a spot dedicated in all its beauty and glory 
as the sanctuary of the most high God. This is within 
thee, it is a part of thee, it is all-sparkling and shining ; 
it needs but to be pervaded by the holy presence, the 
essence of soul, the life of light ; for behold ! as the dew 
vanish eth from the grass where it hath glittered as 
diamonds in the morning sun, it passeth away and ye 
behold it no more, ye recognize it not again — so will all 
external beauties fade ; so, in time, shall they cease to 
give thy heart joy and thy soul gladness. Thou wilt 
look back upon the past as a man who has walked in a 
sleep, struggling and striving 'with great phantoms, 
even those of his destiny. And when the light which 
made thee glad hath passed away into the darkness of 
oblivion, then shall the deep low breathing of thy spirit's 
immortal harmony raise up within thee a light — a soft 
and sweet melody, which shall be a joy to thee forever. 
That is not earth ; that fadeth not away ; that is en- 
during and immortal, even as the glory of thy God is 
immortal, only changing from one glory to a greater 
and greater. 



THE FOOLISH MOTHER. 309 



CHAPTER LI. 

THE FOOLISH MOTHER, 

Through Mrs. S. we had this communication : — 

How unhappy I am! I am wandering up and down, 
hither and thither. I know not where to go. Friends, 
I will tell you the reason of my misery. I was a mother. 
Precious souls were intrusted to my care, and how did 
I fulfill my charge ? I shudder now to think on the 
example I daily set them. I, their parent, who should 
have instilled every gentle virtue and high principle 
into their tender hearts — I only filled their minds with 
foolishness and unprofitable teachings. I brought them 
up to love external show and empty glitter. I learned 
them to love the world and the opinions of vain and 
conceited sons of men. I learned them to walk in the 
paths of pleasure, which but filled their young souls 
with a desire for more — more of the useless and unsat- 
isfying gifts of wealth ; and instead of making my chil- 
dren useful to themselves and society, I but filled their 
young souls with selfishness and pride. 

Oh ! it is a dreadful confession for a mother to make, 
but I must tell the truth now, though if should humiliate 
my soul into the very dust. 

I was called away from my children just as they were 
eme^ing into maturity, just when they could have 



&W THE FUTURE LIFE. 

been turned into a good path, or led aside into an evil 
one, with no guide but a thoughtless father — alas ! 
more prone to love the world than his wretched com- 
panion. And now, can you imagine my unhappiness ? 
No, that is impossible. 

I have not only seen my own folly, my own wicked- 
ness in every thing that pertains to a knowledge of ■ 
spiritual life and the soul's happiness, but I am drawn 
back, as it were, to earth to gaze on the course of those 
I have left behind. Heaven knows I have loved them 
well, but with a foolish, misdirected love, and now I 
suffer the consequences. I am daily a witness to the 
effects of my teachings. I am hourly pained with the 
breaking out of all those uncultivated and grosser parts 
of their nature which it was my duty as a mother to 
lead gently into the right direction ; and I see them 
hurrying from one folly into another, and I can do 
naught but wring my hands in mute despair, and wish I 
had never lived. I can not look upward. I can not 
labor for a better inheritance, for my sins of omission 
to my children are constantly reproaching me, and come 
black as night and huge as mountains. 

"When witnessing their misguided steps I feel, " Mother, 
this has been thy doings. Behold, now, the seeds planted 
in the hearts of thy children bring forth fruit of dust 
and ashes ! " 

Miserable mother that I am ! How wretched has 
been my life since entering the spirit-world. I have 
wept and prayed .continually. I have sorrowed with a 
deep and sincere sorrow for my past life and my chil- 
dren's future happiness. 

Not long since a spirit approached me, took me by 



THE FOOLISH MOTHER. 311 

the hand, and said, " Cease thy useless grieving, weak 
mother, for thy children, and set about working out thy 
own salvation. Cast off thy gross material nature and 
become wise in wisdom of heaven, that you may be 
able to go back to earth, and assisted by wise and loving 
hearts, and by the strong influence of thy love, you 
may be able to approach your children, if not through 
your own spirit-influence, perchance through another's. 
If not through one channel, another may be opened, so 
that you can approach them." Oh ! this thought seems 
too heavenly for so great a sinner as me. I wish to 
become pure. I wish to learn wisdom that I may be- 
come a fit companion for the bright ones above me; 
but oh, my children ! my children ! While I am learn- 
ing wisdom, will they not be irretrievably lost — through. 
my early teachings become hardened to good impulses, 
or sink so deep in sin as to forget me and never hear 
me on earth? My heart is bursting with its great 
agony. I would fain go up, but love draws me down, 
so that 1 am a wretched wanderer. 

O God in heaven ! thou Spirit of justice, and truth, 
and illimitable mercy, look down on me a poor erring 
mother, and guide me right. How little am I acquainted 
with that name and the duties I owe ! Pity me, holy 
spirits around this circle, in my weakness and sin. En- 
treat some loving spirit to protect my children while I 
learn wisdom and repentance. 

Heaven is a glorious place, they say, but I have never 
caught the first glimpse of its brightness. My life has 
been among the discontented, unhappy wanderers, re- 
gretting the deeds done in the body, and not having 
courage to begin the task of labor. But I feel there is 



312 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

within my soul a longing to taste of the love of God, to 
mingle with the pure and good, to leave these lower 
regions where I am so wretched and lonely. But oh, 
my children ! my children ! 

And yet I can do them no good by staying here. My 
soul is becoming worn down and overstrained in con- 
stant grasping to save them from ruin. I will go and 
make myself as a little child again, that I may learn to 
be useful ; and my object will be that I may be of ser- 
vice to my dear children, for I feel that I shall yet be 
enabled to lead those precious children aside from the 
paths of sin and wretchedness which they are now tread- 
ing, into the pleasant way that leads to eternal life. 

Dear friends, the spirits who surround your circle 
allowed me to approach you, poor wretched wanderer 
that I am, to tell you my experience, and oh, do you 
tell it to the world that it may warn some foolish 
mother to escape the wretchedness which I have known 
since my entrance here, who are preparing for them- 
selves a heaven or a hell in proportion to the love they 
bear their children. Tell them their example and 
teachings will be ever before them, reproaching or ap- 
proving. 

My tale is ended. Thanks, and good-night. 



THE DISOBEDIENT SON. 313 



CHAPTER LH. 

THE DISOBEDIENT SON. 

The lesson which I am sent to give to-night, is to 
warn children of the great unhappiness they create 
for themselves by disobeying the commands of good 
parents. 

The Infinite Father in his goodness gave me kind and 
loving parents, who anticipated my every wish almost 
before it was formed in my own mind, and all that could 
render me happy was freely given, with fondness and af- 
fection ever flowing out to wrap me in its warm embrace. 
As I increased in years, and my character became 
developed as an individual, I was strangely perverse 
in my imaginings, wishing to do every thing contrary 
to that which my parents thought right, wishing them 
to throw aside their will, and be guided by the dictates 
of mine. I soon took the reins of government into my 
own hands, and wildly rushed into every excess of folly 
and recklessness. And when those who loved me so 
fondly would strive to counsel and advise me, I turned 
a deaf ear, I heeded not their words, nor would I be 
guided or moved by their prayers. My nature was stub- 
born, my will firm, and I often look back with astonish- 
ment and wonder how I could have been so cold, so 
lost to every feeling of love as to refuse the loving 
admonitions and warning* of those dear parents. 



314 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

They died grieving for me, sorrowing because of the 
path I had chosen, and their last prayers were that 
God would turn the heart of their wandering soi? 
from the paths of error and folly into the ways of 
righteousness and peace. Oh! that I had listened to 
those prayers, that I had but heeded the voice of the 
good spirit who was quietly counseling me to forsake 
the wrong and follow the right. But I crushed down 
every good feeling which was springing up within me, 
and rushed still deeper and still more madly into the 
vortex which was drawing me down to my final destruc- 
tion. My career was suddenly brought to a close, and I 
entered the spirit-world with a fever of passion in my 
heart, and the seal of degradation and infamy on my 
brow. My years had been few in this, your world, but 
how unprofitably had they been spent ! I had checked 
the rising impulse of goodness within my soul, while I 
was yet young and tender in years. I had fostered ray 
own bad passions. I had followed the road which led 
me into more errors and worse companionship than even 
my own ungrateful heart. Yes, I had done all this, 
while prayers and entreaty and counsels, gentle and 
kind, were daily being breathed into my ears. The 
hearts of men are differently constituted, some may be 
led by gentleness and love, while others will trample 
upon such feelings, and require to be curbed Iry a strong 
will aiad firm determination. But all minds, as soon 
as capable of judging or reasoning for themselves, are 
guided by the instincts which are most prominent in 
their character. Thus are all intelligent beings made 
accountable for the deeds done while in the body, ac- 
cording to the amount of intelligence or development 



THE DISOBEDIENT SOX. 315 

to which they have attained, only the motive of the 
heart being looked at as the criterion of judgment as 
regards their position in the next sphere. Thus, I, my 
friends, possessed mental advantages full soon, to expand 
my reasoning faculties, even had they been of the most 
unpretending character ; so that I had not ignorance to 
plead, nor want of advantages for acquiring knowledge, 
and therefore my sin was the greater. I had not been 
cast upon the world homeless or friendless, loneless or 
motherless, but I had ever been cared for, and had 
known how much it was in my power to become great 
and good ; I mean, to be a benefit to others, and use the 
bounteous gifts which had been showered upon me for 
less selfish purposes than my own gratification and that 
of my idle companions. I had sinned with my eyes open. 
My heart knew full well its wickedness. And I now 
stood in the spirit-world alone, w T ith all this knowledge 
rising up before me, confronting me as a mighty moun- 
tain which every moment grew greater in magnitude, as 
I gazed upon it, as I thought upon my past life, and 
threatening to crush me by its immensity. Oh. 1 would 
gladly have changed places then with the poorest wretch 
that my eyes ever beheld. I would have hid myself, 
could I have found a hiding-place. But there was no 
hiding-place for me. I stood there exposed in all my 
moral deformity of soul and character. I stood guilty 
and cowering, trembling in every limb, my spirit wish- 
ing to shrink within itself, or anywhere, that it might be 
out of sight. Oh, friends, where we sin with a knowl- 
edge that we are sinning, how much more terrible is 
the guilt that rests upon us. 

And you ask, perhaps, who did I see ? Directly, I 



316 ' THE FUTURE LIFE. 

saw many. I saw many happy, joyous faces, but they 
came not near me ; tliey shunned me, for I was a dark, 
loathsome thing. They had no affinity for me. And 
I saw some with unhappy looks, with dissatisfaction 
painted upon their countenances. I wanted not to have 
any affinity for these, but they resembled me more, and 
I felt that if I mingled with any, it must be with them. 
Oh ! how many bright intellectual faces which I had 
known on earth as stars in a constellation of brightness, 
and to whom many had bowed and paid homage because 
of their glorious outbursts of eloquence, I now saw T walk- 
ing with downcast looks and humble mien among those 
spirits. Their ambition had reached no higher than 
earth, and earth only had rewarded them. Their aspi- 
rations ascended not to heaven. They lived only for the 
present, nor labored for the future, and now they take 
their places among the discontented throng, and there 
must remain until the shadows of their former lives have 
become erased from their souls, and they are willing to 
begin their search after w T isdom, as humbly and depend- 
ency as the most ignorant soul who enters that sphere. 
My heart grew sad and mournful. Fierce had been 
the struggles between myself and the humiliating 
thoughts that were now gaining the ascendency. My 
pride w^s still strong within me, or rather the strength 
of my own stubborn nature. I could not think of 
descending, of mingling with those by whom I was sur- 
rounded, for whom I felt no other sensation than shame 
and detestation. I wished I might see my dear parents. 
Oh ! how I wished in my innermost soul I could gain 
some intelligence of them ! I knew they must be far 
distant from my habitation. I spoke of my desire to a 



THE DISOBEDIENT SOX. 317 

spirit, and was directed to ask one of those white-robed 
shining beings, whom I saw standing in the distance. 
It seemed they were ever ready and willing to come 
near us and give us instruction and information, but 
they came not to tarry with us — they came only to do 
the will of their Father. And I asked one of these 
spirits to tell me of my parents. He pointed up — up so 
high that my eyes could follow only a little distance, for 
the light was so exceedingly bright, that it blinded my 
vision. He told me that my parents had gone to their 
reward — that I had constantly repelled them after their 
spirits were released from their bodies. He told me of 
their love, and their sorrow, and their grief over my 
course of life. He told me I had long kept them down 
near earth, and made them unhappy, and when all 
their efforts had been unavailing to turn me, they had 
turned away with sadness, and left to enter the heaven 
prepared for their reception. 

And now, upon my bended knees, I begged that I 
might behold them, if only for a moment. But the 
spirit only shook his head, and in a solemn voice ex- 
claimed : " Young man, thy sins have found thee out ; 
thy short career on earth was much too great in extent 
and darkness for thee, for thy soul had become so stained 
and foul, that thou wouldst have had more sin to expiate 
than thou couldst have overcome in long years of suffer- 
ing and sorrow ; but thank thy merciful Father that 
thou wast introduced thus young into the spheres, for 
thou mayest now begin, less hardened than thou wouldst 
have been, to work thy upward course. Thou canst 
not see thy loved parents until thou hast made thyself 
worthy such a privilege. Thou canst not receive thy 



318 THE FUTUPvE LIFE. 

mother's kiss, nor thy father's welcome, until thou hast 
cleansed thyself of many of the impurities of thy earthly 
life. They gaze down upon thee, and would bear thee 
upward. They love thee, but their love availeth naught 
— but thy labors and repentance may avail much. There 
are friends ever near thee who will gladly assist thee, 
who will counsel and advise thee ; but see thou dost not 
drive them away, as thou didst thy dear parents. Let 
the beginning of thy good works be humiliation and 
repentance. Strive to overcome, to blot out, to burn up 
thoroughly all the earthly passions which thy earthly 
life so fanned into a flame, that those who surround thee 
— those who are thy daily companions may look at thee, 
and learn of thee. Thy life must be a sacrifice for them ; 
thou must utterly change every thing which belonged 
to thy former self, and become a humble laborer for 
thy soul's salvation. And, mayhap, while thus engaged, 
others may begin the work which they have so long 
deferred, and climb up with thee. And, as thou dost 
ascend, remember thou art nearing the place where thy 
parents await thee. Kemember the joyous tears of 
gladness they will shed over the return of the prodigal ; 
and look not back, neither to the right nor to the left, 
but fix thine eyes heavenward — thence cometh thy 
help, and there are all thy joys which are to be attained 
only through labor and repentance for past misdeeds. 
Then haste thee, youth, and wash thyself in the stream 
which will purify thy soul, and make it fit to dwell with 
the spirits made pure." 

Good Night. 



CARDINAL RICHELIEU. 319 



CHAPTEE LHI. 

CARDINAL RICHELIEU. 

This evening a spirit came and influenced Mrs. Sweet. From the 
movements and actions it seemed to be an old and feeble man, one who 
was much debilitated, either by disease or age, or the two combined. 
After some effort, he spoke as follows: — 

A man would be worse than foolish, to come back 
again to earth, unless he had some grand object in 
view ; for I protest to you that I feel, in thus coming 
back to earth, ail the infirmities and pains, all the old 
ailments, which racked my body while I dwelt among 
you. There is nothing which your earth could offer 
that would tempt me (if it were possible) to again re- 
enter this clumsy, unwieldy, cumbersome body, which 
so long held my spirit a prisoner within its walls of 
clay. I candidly believe, my friends, that you do not 
know me. I am not surprised at this ; but I mean to 
make you know me before I quit your company. 

Question by Mr. W. — Do we know you? Are we acquainted with 
your name or history ? 

Yes ; my name was somewhat famous in times gone 
by ; and I would to God it were possible to speak my 
name in full ; but 'tis impossible to do it, and I labor 
under this disadvantage. I dare be sworn, my friends, 
that you will ere long know me. 



320 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

Mr. W. here remarked, that whoever he was he was welcome, if he 
came to give us truth, as that was what we were seeking for. 

Truth ! truth ! They tell me it is a priceless gem on 
earth now-a-days, hard to find, and harder to retain 
after it is found. 

I here remarked, that " Perhaps in his day it was to be found less 
mixed with error than at present," to which he answered : — 

I can assure you, most solemnly, that it was buried 
far deeper beneath the surface than it is in yours. The 
difference is, there are more channels through which it 
bubbles up than there were then. I lived amid vice and 
false glitter. I wore an ermine robe 

Mr. W. here asked if it was Cardinal Wolsej ? Shaking his head, 
he said: — 

Indeed, my young friends, you will have to be very 
patient with me. I was attached to a court in a reli- 
gious office. I wore upon my brow the insignia of 
power. 

I here asked if it was Richelieu ? 

Ah ! yes, that sounds familiar. It warms me up 
again ! Tes, that's the name ! Well, truly, it is won- 
derful ! wonderful ! My brow even now feels hot and 
uneasy beneath the tiara which I once wore. I led a 
stormy, ambitious, striving life. But my spirit was 
destined to wield power, and it w T ould not slumber ; it 
would not lie quiescent beneath the power of a crowned 
head. Power was what I wanted ; power I acquired, 
but at what a cost ! My good friends, had my spirit 
but been directed by the all-pervading strength of love 
and wisdom which now directs you, I had become a 
great, a useful man ; I had left a name behind me 



CARDINAL KICHELIEC. 321 

which would have been uttered with a sigh, and with 
tears of thanksgiving. But, alas ! how perverted were 
my ways ! how ambitious ! How strenuously I strove 
to break down and bend every mind around me to my 
own desires ! 

Here Mr. Warren said — "Yes, and you succeeded." 

Succeeded ! Yes, far more than history speaks of. I 
ruled, not the king, but Richelieu. I was powerful: I 
was great. There is one dark, sorrowful spot in my life 
which I would forego years of heavenly life to forget : I 
trampled on innocence. My malicious tongue did much 
harm, for it turned aside the heart of the husband from 
the caress of the wife. Well, well, sad and bitter memories 
have been my portion. Retribution came not too late, 
but all at once. Oh ! it took away from me the bright 
hopes which my childhood's wishes, my boyish dreams 
had wandered among when but a striving lad. Pro- 
phetic voices sounded in my ears, and told me of future 
power. My heart swelled, and seemed as though it 
would burst, as though the breast could not contain it, 
so big were its towering ambitions. And I labored 
hard: early at morn, at noon, at midnight, I labored 
without ceasing. Mine was a hard-earned greatness, 
and its bitterest hours were those in which I felt that 
naught remained for me to do, that I could not climb 
upon the throne, and wield the kingly scepter with 
such power as to bring all the nations of the earth 
to my feet. I desired to see them bending low at 
my footstool in abject weakness — I the power, and I 
the only dictator. And when the world thought me 
engaged in prayer, in fasting, and performing the 
14* 



322 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

rites which my holy office enjoined upon me, oh, could 
they have seen the wicked strife within ! Prayers ! but 
not to God. Aspirations ! but not of heaven. Repent- 
ance! but not of wickedness, but for the great suc- 
cesses which had passed from within my grasp, because 
I was in holy office, and could not, consistently with 
my calling, be that which I would be. My breast was 
a burning volcano. G. S. 



PRACTICAL NATURE OF SPIRIT-LIFE. 323 



CHAPTEE LIT. 

PRACTICAL NATURE O if SPIRIT-LIFE. 

Given, December 6, 1S54. 

The wants of the human soul are now more numerous 
than the means which are yet developed to supply such 
wants. It is indeed a great and unmistakable truth, 
that the spirit-life is a highly practical one ; more so, 
indeed, in its higher development, than this sphere. 
The arts and sciences which are here but partly under- 
stood, are there working harmoniously in all the sym- 
metry and perfection of their perfections. The profound 
mysteries of philosophy, here but dimly understood, are 
there unfolded clearly and practically to every inquiring 
mind. The soul springs into this state of being with 
those faculties more or less highly receptive to the light, 
which may be given in this sphere ; and after passing 
weary hours of labor and perplexity, it grasps, perhaps, 
an atom of the truth as it is. It is given forth to the 
world, perhaps clearly, mayhap dimly. It stands forth 
upon the record of time until another more developed 
soul sees plainer, and adds another, but not a newer 
atom to the one already given. And thus they go on 
one after another, helping to develop in a practical man- 
ner the race in which their existence has been thrown. 
But when they have thrown off the mantle of clay, then 



324 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

the soul knows well that those intense longings for 
knowledge, and light, and wisdom, which seem novel 
to many, were not made a part of its spiritual organiza- 
tion without a wise and holy purpose — without a prac- 
tical good to accrue from the further development of 
those dimly conceived ideas, from their crude and inhar- 
monious state, into a more evenly balanced sphere of 
action. And now the great practical beauty of the 
spirit-world, in all its vast and complicated machinery 
of action and united harmony, bursts upon the wonder- 
ing and delighted spirit. Ten thousand beauties meet 
his eye. There he beholds dimly conceived ideas 
brought into perfection. There are great and opposite 
principles (which he had thought could never mingle) 
working harmoniously together, and producing results 
whose power and usefulness combined, astonish him. 
Here, indeed, no laggard need hope to find a heaven. 
They who desire music, and song, and flowers, and float- 
ing landscapes of loveliness, do not find them here ; it 
is a part of the great universe of thought and wisdom 
and higher life which goes to make up the great, yet 
beautifully harmonious home for all. Although many 
are not attracted to this field of utility and practical 
knowledge, yet the mind whose spiritual organization 
has been molded out of such materials ; without its labor, 
without its highly conceived laws of grandeur and design 
of thought and never-ending labor, ever developing new 
and startling wisdom, there could be no heaven in which 
that soul could find enjoyment. He would pine and 
droop amid the employments which others take so much 
delight in. And do you not conceive that this labor is 
necessary? that all happiness, and all things which 



PRACTICAL NATURE OF SPIRIT-LIFE. 32>J 

contribute to our well-being in our spirit-life are not 
produced without a cause, without a means? 

As we are here dependent upon each other, in a great 
measure, for our happiness and necessaries, so are we 
there. Castles are not built out of thin air, created at the 
wish or desire of those who may want them. All things 
do not form of themselves, spontaneous ; but science 
and philosophy must lend their aid. Labor assumes a 
dignity and beauty, and none enjoy luxury nor ease until 
it is earned by the labor of their own energies; none 
may stand idle by and say to another: " Go and do 
this thing," but they must stretch forth their own hand 
and do for themselves. The man who is lacking in 
practical knowledge, when he arrives in the spirit- 
world, is as helpless as the person who, entering a 
strange country, can not understand the language of 
the people among whom he has entered ; although he 
may have read and heard of all their manners and cus- 
toms, still he is unable to mingle with them, or be useful 
to them until he has acquired the art of making him- 
self understood, and of understanding them. Thus 
many conceive that the general principles given of the 
state of the soul hereafter, in its various degrees of devel- 
opment, is but a kind of school where the lessons are 
easily conned, and the happiness of the state is all that 
is necessary to know ; but they must learn that it is also 
a severely practical school, and each and every one must 
thoroughly understand their part, sufficiently to in- 
struct others as well as benefit themselves, before they 
can pass lightly through, for with the knowledge always 
comes the application. And man indeed feels that when 
he has entered the world of spirits, it is in many respects 



826 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

more natural, because more real and highly developed 
in its mechanical and philosophical laws than the one 
which they left. Here the true grandeur and sublimity 
of the mechanical universe breaks upon them in all its 
majesty and constructive beauty ; and here, too, is the 
immortal spirit made more than man, for he becomes a 
god in the deep and mysterious knowledge of the uni- 
verse surrounding him. He becomes endowed with 
such mighty power, that he can shake the great world 
of elements surrounding him with commotion ; he can 
roll the forces of his vast reservoir of power, so that it 
may be felt in spheres beyond him ; he may carry within 
his hands the lightnings, making them obedient messen- 
gers to bring him bright sparks of knowledge from those 
worlds where others can not approach, which roll beyond 
him, illuminating the horizon by their brightness, and 
filling the beholder with wonder and unsatisfied inquiry. 
The man who so thus pants and longs for his natural 
food is not content with other; is not to be filled, is not 
to find rest until he finds himself a part, filling a niche 
left vacant for him in this great universe, which" is con- 
stantly changing — delighting — unfolding by the scintil- 
lations of its light the enrapt and eager soul. 

O profound thinker ! think on ; thy thought had its 
birth before thy body, yea, coeval with thy soul ; it 
leaves its bright impress still upon thy weary and 
thoughtful brow. Thou art destined for greater things, 
for sublimer knowledge than the puling, puny soul 
whose flight grasps not the substantial, but only the 
flickering, fleeting beauty, as the bee sips the honey 
when roaming from flower to flower, looking upon its 
sunlight beauty, taking a sip of its sweetness; and then 



PRACTICAL NATURE OF SPIRIT-LIFE. 32 Y 

when the tempest comes, when the sky is dark and the 
sun is hid from its view, all is dark, and dreary, and 
cheerless beneath the gaudy flower. Stretch forth thy 
pinions, soul. Soar away into the regions of light and 
harmony and creative power, and ask thyself then, 
" Where is the mind, and what is the power who created 
and keeps in equilibrium all this vast univercoelum?" 
And behold what construction, what comprehension, 
what sublimity and grandeur are there displayed wher- 
ever thy feeble eye can reach ! Oh, the mind which 
called all these things into life, and power, and existence, 
was a constructive, mechanical, practical mind, and all 
things in your universe are constantly displaying in 
their changing forms, practical and beautiful results. 
And thus you will see that every faculty, every legiti- 
mate labor beneath the sun has a corresponding and 
practical bearing in regard to the hereafter of its being. 
It is a deep and searching study ; it is divine in its ori- 
gin ; it is a part of the Divine Mind itself (the mechan- 
ical development displayed by the present race), and it 
will so continue developing until the hidden secrets of 
nature are all revealed ; until man becomes in his 
higher unfolding what the Deity intended he should 
be ; breathing and partaking of harmony, and light, and 
beauty, and knowledge, from all things in nature, each 
forming a part of his being, and making him within 
himself a universe of harmony, proximating to the 
Deity in the purity and development and number of 
his attributes. 



328 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



CHAPTEK LV. 

GLIMPSE OF A HIGHER LIFE. 

New York, January 10, 1855. 

At last the great struggle is over — the spirit has parted 
from the body. They have been companions so long 
that the separation was hard to be effected ; but they 
have parted, never more to be united. The worms will 
have a rare banquet upon that which once was the 
pride and glory of my manhood ; and the green grass 
will wave, and the winds will sing a requiem over the 
spot where my humanity has gone to mingle with its 
native elements ! What care I now for that which w T as 
once so tenderly loved and daintily handled ! It served 
the purpose for which it was given; it received the 
spirit; it grew up and unfolded in its proportions, until 
it assumed the stature and recognized appearance of 
manhood, and, like the short-lived flower, when the 
meridian of its strength and beauty had departed, it. 
gradually withered, and drooped, and finally sought its; 
mother's bosom, and there is lost for awhile, until nature 
again requires its elements in the formation of other 
matter. And now that I have made this great change, 
it all seems natural ; it takes place without any effort 
on my part. But I have left behind a world whose 
laws I was acquainted with, whose aspects were all 



GLIMPSE OF A HIGHER LIFE. 329 

familiar, inasmuch as I was brought in contact with 
many of them. Bat this new life, this evolving of the 
spirit into what seems another spirit, is awakening 
within me strange and undefined feelings, not of uncer- 
tainty, but of the knowledge of my own ignorance, so 
far as regards the laws which govern the invisible but 
tangible world. 

Strange metamorphosis ! I find that here I need a 
body as well as yonder; but it is more refined; it obeys 
my will ; it is still a willing machine. While below, I 
knew how to direct its motions, where to command it 
to carry me ; but now I am at fault ; for behold I am 
clothed indeed with a new body, and its proportions 
are all natural and pleasant to my spirit's affections. 
It is as a nicely fitting garment, adapted to the stature 
which my spirit recognizes as belonging to its likeness. 
And now where shall I turn, whom shall I address, and 
what shall I seek? The future, thus far, has been an 
unexpected, practical tangibility. But my vision is 
limited. I have a hundred impulses to go hither and 
thither to seek information in every direction, but no 
definite plan has yet formed itself in my bewildered 
mind ; for I confess to you, my friends, that I was not 
a believer (in my earth-life)* in the individualized ex- 
istence, or the practical hereafter, or the spiritual devel- 
opment of the human soul as a revolving and isolated 
germ, among thousands of others, all tending to and 
circling around one Great Center, but each totally un- 
like all who surround it. But I stood thus far alone, 
quite alone; my consciousness of individuality was as 
clear and distinct as ever my earth-life had realized in 
its most exalted moments of communion with the invisi- 



330 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

ble and mysterious voices of the past I was not lost 
in chaos, nor swallowed up in the whirlpool of changing 
matter ; my intellects were intensely alive to my uncer- 
tain position, for I knew that with my existing wants 
there must be means to satisfy them in this place as 
well as there had been in the land from whence I came. 
And gradually the mists cleared away, and my vision 
became stronger. A great feeling of reverence for a 
Great First Cause had always existed in my heart, and 
now it became stronger, for I seemed to approach nearer 
the mighty confines of that great unknown mystery 
which had by its very vastness shrouded my soul as 
with a mantle, which shut out all light, all knowledge. 
Feelings of great power, and a presence of I knew not 
what, shook my soul to its very foundations. The 
portals of the invisible world were opening before me, 
and I feared to cross their sacred threshold. I began 
to see forms; human forms they seemed, but they were 
clad in a lightness v/hich caused them to float in air, or 
glide rather than tread upon any seen substance. As 
the rays of the sun dispel the darkness of night and 
lights up into glad brightness the slumbering world, 
and bids the darkness recede before his glancing rays, 
so opened upon my vision, gradually, but oh, how 
grandly, the sublime beauties, the wondrous majesty, 
the unlimited extent of the spirit- world ! And this, 
which seemed to my faint sight so stupendous in its 
grand dimensions, was only a small portion which my 
contracted vision was able to take in. Shall I ever be 
able to describe the thoughts which flitted through my 
mind ? Wonder, astonishment, and awe took possession 
of my soul; my own insignificance crushed me down to 



GLIMPSE OF A HIGHER LIFE. 331 

earth ; but the sweet power of love came over my spirit 
and sustained it through the trial. I smote my breast. 
I called myself a groveling earth-worm, a crawling rep- 
tile, unfit to behold a tithe of the glories revealed to my 
rision. I struggled, I staggered for some strong arm to 
ean upon, for as yet none had come near me, but the 
vhole glorious scene had been as if the curtain of Ely- 
sium had been withdrawn that my astonished eyes might 
gaze, that my unbelieving spirit might feel, and see, 
and then sink back into its own insignificance. And 
what sustained me in that hour? Was it hope? Oh, 
no ; for mine was lost in the ocean, which I supposed 
engulfed the millions who were constantly tending into 
the sea of eternity. Therefore it was not hope which 
sustained me, but it was an invisible power, a wisdom 
which I in my blindness had not yet seen. Unaided, 
my spirit must have lost its consciousness again, and 
sunk into the slumber which it had just awakened from. 
But what I beheld was no bright, fleeting vision, but 
real, blissfully, beautifully real ! Oh, who shall describe 
it! 

Vast and grand are all things pertaining to this fair 
country. My vision can not compass its unlimited 
boundaries ; my eye can not scale its lofty mountains, 
neither can my weak calculations follow the length and 
breadth of its broad and flowing rivers, rippling and 
sparkling in the sunlight of its rose-tinted sky, whose 
clouds drop down blessings as pearls, kissing the hearts 
of its rejoicing inhabitants. The fragrance of its flowers 
enrapture the senses, for delicious odors cause the soul 
to dream of what it hath not yet seen. But strange 
voices are whispering in the air, and the glancing light 



332 THE FUTCEE LIFE. 

of their floating forms sends thrills of joy, and expectant 
gazing for angelic faces. What order, what deep har- 
mony pervades and intensifies every soul as to a measure 
of well-timed music! I hear the voice of song, the 
sound of merriment; children's voices mingle with the 
sounds. Surely, as they approach nearer, they will not 
pass me by, they will not leave me to sink beneath the 
overwhelming sense of all this marvelous beauty and 
unspeakable grandeur. 

I but stand at the threshold of the city ; I can not 
yet enter its holy precincts. I see them approaching ; 
they are a company of men and women, and many are 
with them whom once I knew, and marvelously have 
they changed ; but still each soul has retained the 
character of mind which nature first imprinted upon its 
tablet called the human countenance. I see it has been 
transferred from the mortal clay to the spirit-likeness. 
I see thoughtful and earnest faces ; but they look as if 
a deep and holy quiet had overshadowed their spirits, 
and they were reposing from their labors in a life of 
congenial activity, which is to them rest eternal. The 
glad smile and the merry laugh ; the voice of affection ; 
the eye lighted by the spirit-love, are all here displayed 
as they pass away from before the place in which I 
stand. They divide, and each one takes a different 
direction. I see that all have different occupations 
suited to the developing state of their higher faculties 
at the present time, their labors changing as they pro- 
gress step by step in the harmonies of their higher un- 
folding, each element as it is unfolded becoming an 
essence, and concentrating within their being as they 
rise higher in the circling dome of opening light. I 



GLIMPSE OF A HIGHER LIFE. 333 

perceive that they are, by the nature of their occupa- 
tions, assisting one another ; fitting some to be the 
messengers of knowledge — the teachers of wisdom and 
of practical usefulness to those who are below them. 
Every task, every exertion embraces within its scope 
the happiness or instruction of another. I see no self- 
ishness here displayed, but each laboring at the occu- 
pation most fitted to their capacity, and necessary to 
complete, in all its varied lights and shades of coloring 
and utility, the order and harmony of the progressive 
joy of the spirit-life. I gaze on. I can not cease ; I 
long to join them ! Why had my soul ever refused to 
see the wisdom of God in its natural and deeply mys- 
terious forms of truth and knowledge before ! My soul 
bows down in deep humility before the majesty of his 
power, as I see how godlike in its attributes he has 
created the germ which emanated from so glorious a 
center, so fruitful, so wise a source. For of the count- 
less intelligences w T hich have been evolved as sparks of 
light from the mighty, beating, pulsing Heart which 
gave them being, no two are alike, nor shall be in all 
the circling cycles of eternity. 

As I stand and look upward, countless myriads of 
worlds are revolving around their orbits in the illimit- 
able regions of space. I see far up until they look no 
larger than small, bright grains of golden sand, touched 
by the sunlight glancing across their darkness. Ah ! 
they tell me that these are worlds yet to be inhabited 
by those gross, crude spirits who are struggling into the 
changing ocean, which bears them farther onward into 
the oblivion of earth, but not of eternity. Who can 
measure the wisdom of the Creator? The mighty 



334 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

thoughts of the Deity who can fathom ? He calls worlds 
into existence, and he creates far down in the first intel- 
ligent forms, germs of immortal life, who have sprung 
from himself; and as rivers tend to the ocean, and as 
the sun's rays draw its waters upward, so shall the 
countless millions ever glide onward and upward, con- 
tinually growing more in the likeness of him who 
formed them ; yet never reaching, never equaling, but 
always aspiring up to, and perfecting and expanding in 
their attributes, so that they may give eternal glory to 
the great, loving, overflowing heart from whence they 
spring. 

Sons of humanity, to me, earth-worm as I am, it is 
revealed that ye little know of the mystery of your eter- 
nal destiny ; for that which now seems as an unmean- 
ing clod of the valley, only possessing a faint spark of 
intelligence, shall in the changing cycles of time become 
purified and ennobled in the upspringing faculties 
which lie deeply hidden, until it revolves in the orbit 
of celestial beings who exist in the atmosphere created 
by their own purity. Oh, little, little does man know, 
in the most giant-like grasp which his outstretched 
arm hath besought of Heaven. I would that man should 
ask for truth, eternal truth, coeval with the Father ; the 
first cause, the only framer of truth himself. I would 
that the flood-gates of the eternal ocean of knowledge 
were flung open, that man might drink deep draughts 
until his soul was strong and great, that he might set 
his foot upon the earth and say, Thou art my servant, 
thou art the ladder, the footstool by which, with my 
right arm, I may ascend to heaven. For earth is but 
a small school-room, wherein man takes the first lessons 



GLIMPSE OF A HIGHER LIFE. 835 

of his intelligent and intuitional being, and it will 
indeed seem very small to thee, man, when thine eyes 
have been opened with the strong touch which will 
empower thee to gaze upon one leaf only of the unfold- 
ing glories of the opening spheres. 

Mine eyes have been blessed ; my spirit has been 
humbled ; I am content to stand without and listen to 
the invisible presence whose voice is forever speaking 
in my ear words of mighty import and ever-changing 
thought. 

I linger, I dare not enter, because I am feeble; its 
splendor and its light, and its holy atmosphere of 
purity, overcome my dim and fading senses, as 1 con- 
template its beauties without. 

But I have found sympathy and love; congenial 
voices whisper to my heart, and soft hands press 
mine, and urge me onward ; and when I have become 
strong in my hope and faith, and when my power as a 
spirit is as great as the gratitude which tills my soul 
to my heavenly Father, who has vouchsafed me so much 
of his love, I will enter ! Oh, I will enter the abode of 
of the blessed ; its atmosphere, filled with the perfumes 
of life and healing, now fans my brow ; I gaze from 
afar on its beauties, and my soul drinks deep inspira- 
tion in the contemplation of its mysteries. 

Roll on, ye circling worlds, around your center, and 
in your orbits grow brighter and fairer to my enrap- 
tured eyes ; sparkle in the firmament as gems which 
deck the brow of majesty and light, and let your radi- 
ance come down as a stream of ambient light, and 
draw my wishful, earnest soul to penetrate your glo- 
ries, for I know I shall visit vou : I know that I shall 

7 \) J 



336 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

be there : the Father's promises are for aye and for 
evermore; and I doubt not the yastness of his love, 
when he hath revealed so much of his glories to such 
a worm of earth as I. 

Beloved of earth, I wait, I work, I pray. If my 
voice would reach your hearts, oh, mount up with me, 
press upon the ascending ladder in throngs, eager, glad, 
and hopeful ; for the children of earth have never con- 
ceived of the mighty love of the Father ; but hereafter 
they will glorify him, when their brows are crowned 
with the flowers from the garden of Paradise, and their 
lives are one continued song of joy for evermore ! 



COMMUNICATION. 337 



CHAPTER LYI. 

COMMUNICATION. 

Given, June 5, 1S55. 

1 ie rays of the morning sun bathe with golden light 
the mountain-tops of the spirit-land; the dew yet glistens 
upon the flowers, mingling sweetness to their purity 
and loveliness to their tints; the birds are caroling 
their morning songs, and soft and holy is the hour, as 
happy spirits come forth from their habitations, and, 
joined hand in hand, they ascend to the top of some 
high mountain, or enter the depths of some deep valley, 
with uplifted hearts, to render thanksgiving to God 
their Father, to gaze upon the fair inheritance which 
hath been given them 5 and to ask what their labors 
shall be, in what employment they shall pass the day, 
that their works may glorify and give honor commen- 
surate with the privileges within the reach of each one 
in performing their daily task. They do not toil nor 
sweat, but they labor, and develop their energies, ever 
fresh and new. Curious and wonderful seem the mys- 
teries which are constantly being unfolded to their 
searching spirits. As the buried faculties are called 
forth one after another, how surprised and delighted 
are they to find within themselves that gift or power, 
as it may be, which they bad supposed to be possessed 



338 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

by others but not within themselves ; how thankfully 
and proudly conscious does their immortal spirit be- 
come, when, after having lived its earth-life but a mere 
child in knowledge, it takes its initiation into spheres 
for which it is spiritually fitted, and then it becomes 
gradually awakened to the true strength and power 
and stature which it possesses as a progressive spirit ; 
and with this knowledge come duties, but so pleasant 
and satisfying to the soul, that it never wearies, but 
presses on, led by an irresistible desire to fathom that 
which is unseen — which is for and in the future. There 
is ever a bright light inviting the asking spirit to come 
up higher, to dig deeper, to ask for more, and more is 
always given ; but the immortal soul is ever hungry — 
ever stretching out — reaching beyond. Each place 
which the spirit may call its home is pleasant and fair, 
but there is ever a fairer one to be obtained by labor ; 
there are always more beautiful scenes than the eyes 
have yet rested upon ; there is always sweeter music 
than the senses have drunk in ; there is ever a void 
asking constantly for more. 

Children of earth, it is not enough that in your spirit- 
home you sing the praises of your Father — that you 
mingle with the pure and the holy; it is not enough 
that you feel happy in the reunion with those you love. 
That place which your spirits yearn to inhabit is made 
fair and beautiful by the presence and the harmony, 
and by the loving labor of those who inhabit it; for 
those who would be happy must first earn their right to 
happiness ; and then, indeed, who may wrest it from 
them? Do not think that. all memory of the past will 
be forgotten in the joy to which you are going, but live 



COMMUNICATION. 339 

upon earth as the child of God ; live as though you 
were separated from that Father only for a season, and 
remember his loving-kindness has prepared a mansion 
to receive you when you shall have finished the tasks 
which you have begun upon earth ; rough or unsuited, 
or cheerless and cold as they may have seemed, yet it is 
but a day — an hour — a fleeting moment in comparison 
with the life which is before you ; and they who strug- 
gle and strive to do their Father's will, will be received 
in that land of love and holy joy with rejoicing and 
gladness. They will have crowns placed upon their 
heads; they will be clasped 'in the embrace of radiant 
beings, and they will feel that one hour in the courts 
of heaven is worth a whole lifetime of suffering and self- 
denial. The earth is not man's abiding-place; then 
why should he seek so hard to assimilate his soul with 
its grossness ? why should he do violence to the immor- 
tal spark within him ? why crush it to the ground until 
it ceases its struggles, and, like a wounded bird, lies 
still and slumbers, not to awake until it has burst from 
its prison-house of clay ? He but comes here to undergo 
one of the many changes which the spirit has to pass 
through ; and when the spirit can escape from its clay 
covering, how glad it is to make the exchange, to mount 
up into its native element, as it were, having thrown 
oif the heavy encumbrances — for soon does it feel and 
know that the loves and affections which it felt on earth 
were those of the spirit, and not of the clay ; therefore 
the spirit has no more love for the clay after it has once 
cast it off, but it looks upon those who are left behind, 
and wonders how they can bear about so cumbersome a 
body. 



340 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

The spirit is a great and unceasing traveler, and so 
it will continue to be until in its journeyings we shall 
lose sight of it forever, for as they pass from before us 
and beyond us, we know that they are fulfilling their 
immortal destiny. And still we stand at the gates, 
knocking loudly at the entrance, that we may teach 
mankind how to enter upon the world, and the light 
which we have entered — how to prepare to take his 
part in its labors and its duties. We would not have 
him come among us ignorant and debased ; we would 
fain have all developed morally, and intellectually fitted 
to mingle with those who are able to teach them, and 
whom to associate daily with will raise them higher in 
the scale of progression. We w^ould have man redeem 
himself while here from the impurities and errors which 
false teachings have cast about men's souls; and we 
would come simply and lovingly ; we would ask him to 
hold communion with us, to hear our voices, that we 
might be as brothers and sisters coming from our Father's 
house to help him through with his earthly tasks — to fit 
him to come and dwell with us, mingling our songs of 
thankfulness together for evermore. 



A WORD FROM VOLTAIRE. 341 



CHAPTER LVIL 

A WORD FROM VOLTAIRE. 

Xew York, July 26, 1855. 

I stand upon the summit of a lofty mountain ; I am 
enveloped in a cloudy atmosphere ; none are near me, 
and I stand alone, in silence and solitude ; a sense of 
the infinite power and majesty of God pervades my 
entire being, and a fervent desire goes out from my 
spirit to the Spirit whose unutterable breathings are all 
around me ! I ask for wisdom from on high ; I ask 
that the power of Infinitude which I am made to feel 
may not overwhelm me, but that I may, as a humble 
and loving little child, receive that which my spirit is 
able to grasp, and lo ! before the prayer had left my 
heart it was answered by a beauteous sight presented 
to my view. I saw approaching me four spirits ; they 
all came from different directions, and some were 
exceedingly bright. «The light radiating from them 
dazzled my vision as they approached closer to me. 
The others were not of so fair an appearance ; but they 
wore a pleasant expression, which seemed to say, peace 
be unto thee, child of earth ; we come to teach thee a 
lesson ; because thou hast desired wisdom, thy prayer 
shall be answered. 

They stood before me so that I might behold them 



342 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

all together, and I observed that each one was clad 
differently from the others. The entire being bore 
that distinction which would mark a different nation, 
yet physically they were the same, because they were 
kindred in kind if not in spirit. One of them now 
addressed me, saying : — 

" Child of earth, we come to thee, each from a different 
state or sphere — each one representing by our appear- 
ance the degree of development to which we have 
attained in our spirit progress. Gaze upon us closely, 
and thou wilt see a marked difference in each one. 
Behold, the first who comes near thee is a dweller near 
the sphere in which thou art still a dweller. Thou 
wilt perceive that there is much of earth's sur- 
roundings still about him. His sympathies with earth 
are strong. His desires tend yet as much earthward as 
up — as heavenward. Plis vesture, the limitation of 
thought and feeling, are yet upon, or assimilating much 
with, the earth plane. There is a strong and ardent 
longing to mingle again in the scenes which he left. 
The time hath been so short since his removal that he 
doth not yet sufficiently realize his new position, but 
thinks he w r ould be happier if his earthly joy, his cares 
and friends, were with him ; because ' where the treas- 
ure is, there will the heart be also.' 

" And now look upon the next. You observe a more 
hopeful expression of countenance, a lighter raiment, 
less inclination to look downward, and more wish to 
soar up. This spirit is more thoroughly weaned from 
earth. He hath cast the trammels off him. He hath 
left the plane or state which kept him near earth so 
long, and he is rising above those who have lingered by 



A WORD FROM VOLTAIRE. 343 

the wayside, plucking only fading flowers. His ear 
hath become accustomed to the sound of spirit- voices. 
His eye lights up as it looks upon spirit-forms, and he 
feels that he has cast off earth's mantle for ever and 
ever. Thus his spirit is new-born and buoyant, and he 
listens attentively to all teachings which are presented, 
to him. He hath not lost his love or affection for his 
earthly friends ; but it is purified, and now, when he 
approaches them, he goes upon errands of duty rather 
than sympathy, because he feels that he has done with 
things inherent to the flesh, and now he liveth to 
become wise in the spirit. He is now seeking what he 
may do, and how wisely he may do it. He now 
feels the meager supply of knowledge which once 
satisfied him inadequate to last his hungry soul 
for the space of but one day in his spirit-life, so 
pleasantly and profitably do the hours now glide by, 
with no drawback to his happiness save his regret that 
he did not live on earth to know himself and what his 
capabilities were, or wherein that which would have 
made his earth-life but as a laborious dream in com- 
parison to the real enjoyment which his spirit now 
revels in with so keen a zest He is but a child yet. 
He is pleased and happy, because he hath entered the 
state where he feels that he is striving by his studies to 
prepare himself, and become assimilated to his eternal 
home. No earthly regrets or longings take away from 
his spirit's peace, for he hath ceased to remember his 
earth-life, save when the spirit is brought into com- 
munion with a kindred affinity, and the sympathetic 
chord still reaches him and vibrates to the loving voice. 
It gladdens me to look at his face, for it is hopeful ; and 



344 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

when Lope and faith go hand in hand, I know that he 
will soon become brighter, higher, wiser, and purer. 

" And now behold the next spirit. He is one who is 
not often drawn earthward. His pathway lies among 
the sparkling worlds which dot the brow of heaven. 
Look at the comeliness of his face, at the brightness of 
his eye, at the sweetness of his smile, and hark to the 
music tones of his voice ! And yet he once trod upon 
the same dim sphere, and breathed the same air-given 
breath which you do now. But long since he hath 
risen above it. His garments float round him light and 
zephyr-like — ethereal as the atmosphere in which he 
lives. He is one of those who have labored upon earth 
and labored in heaven. His works, they followed him, 
because they were prompted by love ; and verily they 
did return to the source from whence they sprang, and 
lighted up his pathway, making strange places seem 
familiar by their pleasant fancies. His spirit soon 
becomes fitted to mingle with the wise and the good 
who had passed to their homes long before him. And 
he labored earnestly and manfully, because great 
thoughts had found a birthplace in his soul ; and still 
the prayer of his heart was, more food — more, O Father, 
I hunger still ! And the chalice was often held to his 
lips, and he drank deep draughts. He bore great 
burdens; he agonized in spirit that he might benefit 
humanity, and spirits came and held counsel with him 
that he might teach them to walk in the way of wisdom. 
With all he was ever gentle, ever meek and lowly. As 
he cast off earth's grossness and put on the habiliments 
of light, he became angel-like, because his spirit's pu- 
rity shone upon all who surrounded him. Earth seems 



- A WORD FROM VOLTAIRE. 345 

to him but a dot in the firmament of glory, because his 
eyes have beheld unfolding immensity, and his ears 
have heard seraph voices, whose tones penetrate not 
to earth. They can not be heard below; the spirit 
must ascend, yea, purified, to hear the music which 
only toucheth hearts attuned to hear its melody. And 
lo ! he standeth before thee, majestic and calm in his 
developed beauty. And what dost thou think can be 
the employment fitted for such as he? I'll tell thee 
what it is. He is a teacher, set before many spirits 
who are striving to become wise. ■ He is doing the 
will of his Father, because he hath labored and hath 
striven. Through trials and sufferings he hath become 
fitted to teach those beneath him great and soul-saving 
truths. He is a guide. He is a loving and kind 
counselor to those who are far beneath him. His power 
doth reach far; his wisdom doth sink deep; and the 
influence which emanates from him strengthens and 
gives aid and hope to those who are struggling to do 
that which will enable them to mount up higher, and 
look abroad upon the land which their eyes have not' 
yet been permitted to look upon. And behold ! he 
visiteth places unknown to the sons of earth, and he 
telleth them of deep mysteries which their spirits could 
not penetrate. lie is a messenger of joy, because he 
goeth from place to place with glad tidings ; and words 
of joyful import resound throughout the vast expanse to 
hail his arrival from celestial lands — for the human 
heart is ever the same throughout eternity, in all its 
joys, its love, its hope and inner yearning for something 
more to be revealed. He has passed from earth many, 
many ages agone. And thy prayer was earnest — thy 

15* 



346 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

yearning deep ; and the living thought bounded far up, 
and reached him in his rapid career, and he paused and 
bowed his head ; and obedient to the will of his Father, 
he sped downward ! Look upon his brightness, child 
of earth, and say, canst thou fathom the wisdom which 
from a spark undeveloped, ignorant and dark, can 
unfold through circling ages, from one state of imper- 
fection to another, each changing and losing the crudery 
which first enwrapped it, and budding out as a fair 
unfolding flower, until, from one change to another, it 
becometh a thing of beauty — a gem of purity — a ray of 
light — a godlike thing — a speaking intelligence, whose 
voice, from the feeble wailings of the infant, hath be- 
come strong and pure, until it answereth from the deep 
of eternal mind to the voice of God himself — of the 
Mind which created it ! Verily we may become kings 
and priests unto God ; because we are his children — 
because we love him, and he maketh us like unto 
himself." 



A deep sleep fell upon my spirit.. The one who had 
addressed me laid his hand upon my head gently, and 
said, " Child of earth, profit by the lesson given thee. 
Live ! for life is eternal, and thou canst never die ! 
Thou wilt change, but the whole created universe is 
ever changing, and developing new and freshly-budding 
beauties. Work, for nature works. Give thanks to 
thy Father God, for all he bath created praiseth him. 
Trust in him, for he who gave thee being is able to 
sustain thee. As puny as thou art, thou art a part of 
him. Look up ! by so doing thou shalt reach the great 



A W0KD FEOM VOLTAIRE. 347 

and loving heart from which thon didst emanate, and 
there shalt thou find the rest and the peace which 
lasts for ever and ever ! 

" My task is done. Profit thou by the lesson/ 5 



348 THE FUTURE LIFF. 



CHAPTER LVIII. 

HOME OF THE UNHAPPY SPIRITS. 

Given through Mrs. Sweet, September 10, 1S55. 

In the silent watches of the night, when slumber had 
overpowered the external senses, and the spirit and the 
body seemed more distinct than in their waking state, 
the desire to know more of the unseen and unknown 
things of eternity sprang up strong and powerful within 
me, when lo ! a voice beside me said : — " Come with 
me ; leave thy body for a while, and I will show thee 
what manner of place and what kind of companions 
many of earth's children are hastening to dwell in and 
mingle with." I gladly took my conductor's hand, and 
wandered far from earth. We did not ascend ; our 
pathway seemed to be more on the descending scale 
than otherwise ; and as we left earth's atmosphere we 
entered another kind of breathing element. It was not 
darker nor denser than that which we had left, and yet 
it oppressed me. My companion said, " Hasten thee 
along until we reach the place we are seeking." A sad, 
dull feeling now took possession of me, and I walked with 
unwilling steps, reluctant to proceed, and yet unable to 
return. There was no feeling of joy at my heart — no 
anxious hope, but a dull, heavy sensation pervaded my 
entire brain, and I said to my guide, u Let us return; 



HOME OF THE UNHAPPY SPIRITS. 349 

these regions are not the abode of happy spirits, because, 
instead of warming or exhilarating my frame by their 
near approach, they chill and subdue me." My guide 
said, '• Kay, thou didst wish to look into things pertain- 
ing to the eternal welfare and destiny of man. Why, 
then, art thou unwilling to look upon the dark side? 
because there thou mayest learn as much of wisdom for 
thy spirit's strength, as thou couldst gain by gazing upon 
the holy beauty which thou art not yet prepared to 
enter ; for, verily, the sons and daughters of earth must 
work their way up, through great sacrifices and great 
affliction, for the purification of their spirits !" 

And we entered a city, and indeed it seemed of this 
w r orld, and yet not of it. It was vast and great in all 
its proportions of strength and magnitude. It was 
inhabited by many people of all nations and tongues. 
It was a busy scene of confusion. I turned and gazed 
about me; and upon all sides — upon every countenance 
which I met, was written the words, too plainly to be 
misunderstood, c; unhappiness " and " discontent." JSTo 
pleasant smile greeted our approach, but sullen looks, 
regretful faces, and murmuring voices and sorrowing 
countenances met us on every side. I looked long and 
sadly for some countenance lighted tip by hope — some 
brow upon which was written u innocence and love" 
dwelling within ; but I found them not. The air was 
chilly, because love wafted no pleasant gales to warm up 
that place of sorrow and regret. The spirit who led me, 
said, " Mortal, observe one thing — thou dost not behold 
here one infant form, one child-like face, wearing the 
looks of defaced divinity." My heart swelled up within 
me, and a deep prayer struggled for utterance to my 



350 THE FDTCJEB LIFE. 

Father, that the innocence of childhood knew not the 
blight of sin — of impurity — that it dwelt not in this 
atmosphere of mental depression. 

My guide said, "Accost some of the dwellers of this 
city, mayhap they will tell thee the cause of their unhap- 
piness." I paused and shrank back from the unpleas- 
ant task. My guide whispered "Duty" and then I was 
ready to do as I was bid. There was approaching me 
an aged man — a spirit rather, who had brought the 
decrepitude of age and suffering with him to his spirit- 
home. I said, " Why do you thus groan under your 
infirmities ? Why do you walk as though you were 
still an inhabitant of earth ? Have you not left it ? 
and could you not leave behind you its affections, inher- 
ent only, as I thought, to the flesh ?" He said to me, 
" Who are you who presume thus to question me ? I 
lived out a lifetime of labor and care that I might be 
able to enjoy luxury and ease. When age came upon me 
I had no time "to think of death. What was death to me ? 
I was working hard that I might enjoy on earth the 
fruits of my labor ; but suddenly I am called away. I 
became powerless at once to retain my body and spirit 
together. I am compelled to leave all behind that 
made up the sum and substance of my life's long labor ! 
Why," said he, " should I be forced to part with what 
I loved so dearly — what I labored so hard to obtain ? 
But," said he, and a stern and savage look overspread 
his countenance, " I will not part with it ! I did not 
w r ant to come here. I will yet labor still, and carry out 
my darling project. I would not be other than I am. 
I would be what I was. Do not talk to me of death 
and of happiness beyond the grave, for all happiness fled 



HOME OF THE UNHAPPY SPIRITS. 351 

from my grasp when I was summoned aw-ay so suddenly 
to this accursed place." My guide said, u Grod aid thee, 
poor soul, to look up to the help which is ready to come 
to thee when thou canst give up thine earthly desires ; 
then also shall thy earthly infirmities leave thee free to 
labor for its happiness." And he tottered away, lean- 
ing on his staff, only intent on grasping the fleeting 
phantom of happiness; but, alas ! in the wrong direc- 
tion, and never to be realized by him until, in the 
bitterness of his spirit, he prays for help and for light 
from above. 

We passed on ; and next we met a young girl. She 
had been fair and beautiful, were it not for the impress 
of sin and suffering upon her still youthful countenance. 
She met us with a defiant glance, as though questioning 
our presence there. She seemed to know that we did 
not belong to the place, and she strove to hide her 
shame beneath an air of bold recklessness and effront- 
ery. My guide gently laid his hand upon her shoulder 
and said, " Stay, child, we would speak w T ith thee." 
She paused unwillingly, and I said, " Tell me w T hy you 
like to stay in this gloomy place, when there are so many 
inviting paths all about you wherein you might walk 
pleasantly and profitably ? Why do you mingle with 
the evil and the gross ? Why do you drink of the cup of 
sorrow and eat of the bread of bitterness and strife, 
when you know that there is rest and peace for the re- 
pentant and earnest spirit ?" She looked upon me with 
fiercely angry looks. " Do you come to taunt me with 
my shame," said she, "with my fallen condition, you 
who know that I was once pure and loving — beautiful, 
and proud of the world's approving voice ?" " ISTay," 



352 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

said the spirit, " we did not come to taunt thee, but to 
save thee — to teach thee of thy Maker!" "Away," 
said she, " I will learn naught of good ; I will hear no 
words of love, or faith, or hope, or charity, or joy ; they 
are idle sounds to me, fitting only for puling chil- 
dren. I died with a curse upon my lips, and a murder- 
er's knife in my hand ; shame, black and deep written 
upon my dishonored brow ! I ask no mercy ; I desire 
no heaven. I hate the good and the pure, and I love 
the dark and defiled wretches, because I am like them — 
because I will excel them in wickedness and crime if I 
may ;" and she gave a demoniac laugh, whose echoes 
were sad and hopeless as they fell upon the ear. The 
spirit-guide now said, "It is written that he who repent- 
eth of his sins and returneth to his Father's house, shall 
be received with joy and gladness ; and I leave with 
thee a message from thy Father, inviting thee to put 
aside the dark raiment of sin and all base passions, and 
listen to the soft and soothing voice of mercy, which will 
murmur peace, peace to thy troubled soul." 

We passed on, and left her with a prayer in our 
hearts, that she might receive the heaven-sent message 
in her darkened home. And we saw in our journey 
weeping women — ob, iiow repulsive in their aspect — 
how different from all that they should be, by the per- 
version of their high instincts, which had been trampled 
upon and turned to base and unholy uses by the griev- 
ous wrongs of society and circumstances — by the laws 
of man, not of God, for they are just and equal ! 

And next we spoke to a man who looked as if God 
had gifted him with a bright intellect and expansive 
genius, whose range might encompass many of the great 



HOME OF THE UNHAPPY SPIRITS. 353 

things of earth ; but his brow was clouded with care, 
his eye was sunken, its expression hopeless ; his motions 
were nervous, and his head hung down, bowed toward 
earth, in craven and abject shame. When I spoke, he 
started. u Why do you stop me ?" said he ; u am I not 
free here to do as I please ; or, does my old foe still pur- 
sue me even beyond the bounds of time — of* earthly 
space? Leave me, or give me drink, more strong 
drink." Verily, the wine-cup had maddened to de- 
stroy the towering intellect which could soar as an 
eagle above the common herd, and sway men by its 
power and might ; it had been conquered and laid low 
by the red wine-cup. Death had lurked within it. It 
had sparkled but to deceive, and blindly led to destruc- 
tion the brave and expanding soul while yet in man- 
hood's prime. And sin and misery had marked his 
downward path, and disease had laid his body in the 
grave, but the unquenchable desire had arisen with his 
spirit, and now it was his ghastly, his daily companion, 
driving him to madness and despair, because his strong 
desire was unquenched. And he wanders up and down, 
ever desiring, but never receiving, wherewith to satiate 
his undying thirst. And thus he will be until his tor- 
ment becomes so great that he will be fain to look for help 
— for life — for any thing to save him from the death which 
he is momently dying. And then, when the first prayer 
is uttered from the quivering, despairing depths of his 
agony, his repentance will have begun. Then will some 
kind angel draw near and beckon him from the place 
of his captivity ; and then will he pray to be delivered 
from out of the dark valley of the shadow of death, whose 
pestilence is ever destroying, but never dying — whose 



354 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

anguish is ever wearing deeper, by the food upon which 
it lives, into the heart's core of its wretched inhabitants. 
Oh, it is a sad sight, one at which angels weep, but they 
can not help until the heart first asks and attracts them 
to it, because hope and faith are twin sisters; their 
birthplace was heaven, but they descended to earth, and 
a portion of them dwell in every germ of implanted in- 
telligence. Therefore, hope may be buried deep in the 
most abject soul, but it will spring forth to meet the 
kind invitation which angels give. And dark and 
dreary as the home of the dark spirits may be, yet hope 
is not dead, but only buried within each bosom. And 
when all other props, all other barriers are broken away, 
then will hope spring forth and buoy up the sinking 
soul, and point it upward to its birthplace in the city 
of light and holiness. 

Poor spirits ! in their darkness they are far removed 
from the Father from whence they came ; but they will 
revolve around and around in their dark orbits until 
they are washed of their sins, and at last approach their 
birthplace. 

He has left us unheeding of our words; he will verily 
travel in the path of his iniquity until it becomes too 
great a burden to be borne, and then he will cry aloud 
to his Father ; and his Father in heaven is ever ready to 
forgive. 

We meet another. It is an aged female, and still she 
would fain deck herself out in trinkets and gewgaws. 
She is anxious that we should note the rustling of her 
silks, and make note of the brilliancy of her ornaments. 
Ah ! what sad lines of care and earthly passion are 
marked on her countenance. She would fain tread 



HOME OF THE UNHAPPY SPIRITS. 355 

erect and stately, but the spirit says, "Take heed where 
thou art going, and what thou art doing ; thou art still 
walking in the old pathway which caused the ruin of 
thy happiness on earth and the ruin of many others — 
which brought thy children down w 7 ith thee to inhabit 
this place of contention and sorrow. Thy heart is yet 
cold and callous ; the external is all thy spirit craves." 

"And who are you who would bar my progress," 
said she; "who would keep me back from doing what 
I wish to? Have I not riches, and wealth, and power? 
Should not all beneath me bend the knee and do me 
homage ? AYhat care I for the poor and the lowly ? I 
spurn the beggar ! yes, I w^ould tread upon the reptile 
and crush it, if it should cross my path. And my 
children, they should be as their mother, not vile w r orms 
of earth, but proud, haughty, and powerful, crushing 
beneath them every obstacle which would bar their 
entrance to honor and power — to wealth and position. 
Ye talk of the heart ; it has nothing to do but please 
itself as it may in the enjoyment of this world's pleas- 
ures ! Talk not to me of a hereafter; it is a myth — a 
shadow — a dim thing. I care, not for any hereafter. 
Give me that power which I desire, now." 

Poor spirit, she verily thought she was upon earth's 
surface, striving and wrestling with its vanities. She 
had crushed within her own soul and that of her off- 
spring every kind impulse. She had sown the wind, 
and she was reaping the tempest. She had arrayed 
herself even in silks and fine linen to satisfy the cravings 
of her soul for the applause of the world. She had 
trampled upon every gentle affection, to be gazed at by 
men and women as a rare piece of nature's workman- 



356 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

ship improved by art, and she lives on in her empty, 
delusive life, knowing all its hollo wness and unhappi- 
ness, looking daily upon the wreck of all that her heart 
should have held dearest. • A mother's love has been 
crushed within her, and she feels the want and the an- 
guish. Ah ! many, many years must pass away before 
she will begin to give up with tears of contrition the 
vanities of her earth-life ! 

And now here comes a poor, ragged, meager, hungry- 
looking object, murmuring aloud. He curses his Maker 
because he was born. He was ever unhappy, and re- 
belled in all things and at all times, because of what 
had been made and given from his Father. His phys- 
ical development was all inharmonious. God's earth 
was not beautiful in his eyes, and his children were all 
enemies to him, because of the bitter waters which filled 
his own heart. IsTo love nor kindness had found an 
outgushing channel ; they had been suppressed and 
pent up under the fires of passion, and revenge, and 
discontent; and nursed, and nurtured, and fed until 
every thing had assumed an unloving and repulsive 
appearance. In his eyes the grass looked not beautiful, 
neither did the flowers smell sweet. The sun's rays 
were not bright; the moon's light was not chaste; the 
blue canopy was as a dark and forbidding mantle. All 
things were without beauty — without joy, because the 
God-given faculties were buried in the physical in har- 
mony of his animal structure. He walked through life 
dark and gloomy, as a foreboding cloud of evil. He 
darkened men's paths by his presence ; and when he 
left, no gentle deeds, no loving remembrance hallowed 
his memory ; but he descended to the grave as a clod 



HOME OF THE UNHAPPY SPIRITS. 357 

of the earth, and his spirit went to mingle its discord- 
ance with elements of a like nature. But the animal 
and the evil shall not always bury the immortal germ 
of truth and human love. The dark spirit will be re- 
deemed and beautified in coming time. The love of 
the Father and of angels shall touch his heart as with 
an electric gleam, and light up its dark, cold cells, and 
he shall yet become a ministering spirit in the mission 
of the mercy of the Father to the imperfections of man. 
His soul had nearly lost its portion of divine love in the 
wreck and ruin by which physical causes surrounded it ; 
but it will come out hereafter bright and genial, bathed 
in the sunlight of the smile of Jehovah. 

Ah ! he passes away.. He heard not the destiny far 
on his path before him, but step by step he will work it 
out; because mountains are formed from grains of sand, 
even so can the spirit, which sprang from God (however 
dark in its after-course), still be purified and stripped 
of all its earthly trammels, and gain wisdom step by 
step, until it attains the height and size of developed 
manhood. 

"Many, many are the busy, blinded, discontented 
spirits around us here ; but even in the midst of this 
place of sadness, and sorrow, and strife, aiid regret, I 
will erect an altar," said the spirit, " and from it my 
prayers shall ascend to God, because he hath promised 
to redeem every child who shall return to him ; and I 
know that from out of this conglomerate mass of dis- 
cordance there shall arise hereafter, in the progressive 
march of endless time, an harmonious family, who shall 
call God their Father, and whose songs of praise shall 
ascend to him for ever and ever." 



358 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

My guide hath returned with me, and I again enter 
the slumbering form, He says, u Profit by the lesson, 
O mortal ! and repeat it to earth's childj an ; mayhap 
thereby one soul may be saved." 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 359 



CHAPTEE LIX. 



EXPERIENCE OF YOLTAIEE. 

The following story of his experience, given by Voltaire, was com- 
menced on the evening of January 19, 1856. and continued, at intervals, 
on three subsequent evenings. DuriDg the delivery of the second and 
third parts, some friends happened to be present, who had come in to 
spend the evening with us. 

The first and fourth parts were given when no one but the medium 
and myself were present. "When one part had been given, we did not 
know that it was to be continued. So also with the other parts; and 
especially when the second part had been given, did we think that it 
was finished. But on the evening of March 24, much to our surprise 
the narrative was resumed and the third part given. The fourth and 
last was given on the 6th of September, and came as usual, without 
thought or expectation on our part. 

The influence of this spirit on the medium was powerful, but harmo- 
nious. "When deeply under his influence, she seemed at times to be 
taken far up — away from this state of existence, to where the grandeur 
and sublimity were so great, and the light so dazzling and overwhelm- 
ing, that she shrank from beholding it. G-. S. 

In the bustle and confusion of the outer life, how 
utterly do men forget the last great scene to be enacted 
on the visible stage, before they enter the portals of the 
unknown land, whither they go, as they think, never 
to return. My life was one of deep yearning and un- 
satisfied longing. I was fierce and bitter, deep and 
grasping, in my search after the invisible wisdom, 
which was shut out from my hungry gaze. I could not 



360 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

be satisfied with what other men were ; I desired some- 
thing which they had not. The deep within me called 
to the deep, from which God once spake, when he said, 
" Let there be light." But with me there was no light. 
For humanity's surface presented to me nothing but a 
fleeting picture, filled with mimic shadows, called men 
and women. They lived either above me, or below 
me, I then knew not which. I was among them, yet 
not of them ; their forms and ceremonies sickened my 
soul, and provoked the ready sneer and the sarcastic 
remark. 

"When my spirit came into its earthly temple, it was 
altogether positive in its manifestations. It had none 
of the ready sympathy, and the gentle charity, necessary 
to bear it pleasantly through life ; it was angular, and 
ever going out in quest of some real support on which 
to lean ; but as the world then lived, it found no true 
resting-place, but was tossed about from billow to bil- 
low, without an anchor, ever left at the mercy of every 
w^ave which would dash it hither and thither. When I 
asked for proof from ancient lore, it failed to reply to 
my soul's deep yearnings — all were to me as fables, 
voices of the imagination, enough perchance for those 
to lean on who desired no other authority save what 
they were told was right ; who prayed by rule, and 
served God by measure. I despised, with a heartfelt 
contempt, the child's play which I saw r daily enacted 
by kings and princes ; and I felt within me a power 
that, could I give it utterance, would hurl all their air- 
built structures to the earth, and leave them (poor idiots 
that they were) naked in their own ignorance, and 
clothed with nothing better, nor more durable, than the 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 361 

gold and tinsel with which they covered themselves, 
and gloried in their greatness. But it was I who was 
the madman, if they were as children ; I had not thought 
of my own impetuous and unreasonable nature. I had 
not seen myself as the world saw me, for I had only 
sought how I might tear away their bright illusions — 
their dream-like fancies, and probe to the bottom, and 
lay bare to their gaze, the folly of their so-called reli- 
gion. 

I did not deal in sarcasm and bitter invective because 
it pleased me; I did not level the shafts of my satire 
because it was altogether pleasant, but it expressed 
more forcibly my feelings — it gave the keenest edge to 
that which I could utter, to cut and tear away the thin 
veil of conventionalism and rank hypocrisy. Ah ! my 
life was a sad one, in many respects ; it was made up 
of so much that was discordant, that gave pain, that 
made the victim writhe in conscious knowledge of the 
truth of what I wrote ; for I knew, and felt, that male- 
dictions loud and deep were poured out on my head. 
But what cared I ? I gloried in them ! And it made 
the waters of bitterness flow on more merrily in my 
soul to see what an army arrayed themselves against 
me, striving to crush me into forgetf illness, that my 
voice might not be heard — that its sting might not be 
felt. And I defied them, for I exclaimed, " You, who 
have the mighty power of Christianity upon your side, 
the voices of past centuries, the power of kings and 
scepters, of popes and of cardinals — you need not raise 
even a finger against so insignificant a pen as mine, for 
I am but one man, while you number in your ranks the 
whole Christian and enlightened world ! Why notice 

16 



362 THE FUTUKE LIFE. 

me at all? Let me titter my voice, my thought, and 

be silent. It is only a man who speaks, although it 
would seem, from the number of my foes, that the in- 
carnation of all evil had himself spoken through me." 
I did not for a moment shrink; it gave me power and 
strength, for then I knew that they w r ere standing upon 
a sandy -foundation, when so slight a cause could so 
agitate and confound them. 

I experienced many triumphs in my own way ; they 
were the only pleasant spots which my earthly exist 
ence knew, for I did love power, I did desire to hold 
the reins in my hand, by which I felt I w r as controlling 
the human mind, and making it as a mere machine ; 
and God knows since, how deeply I have repented the 
means which I used to bend the mind, to bring it on 
my own plane of action. But it is past, and the memory 
of it now is humiliating to me. But I could not be 
other than I was ; my character was strongly marked , 
and it left its impress behind it, long after the body had 
perished from remembrance. I met the angel of death 
calmly, fearlessly. I thought I had proved all things, 
and nothing more remained to be proved. I thought 
the yearning would die with me, and I was content to 
die and be forgotten. I had often desired to know the 
philosophy of death. I had looked upon the fading 
flower, and the withering grass; they but served to 
enrich the earth ; to spring forth in new forms to please 
the eye ; and should not the elements of my body go to 
perform some like service ? I might peer as I would, 
but no voice answered my call, and I was thrust back 
upon myself. Oh ! it was a mountain which rested 
upon me, because I felt it all, yet could give it no utter- 



. EXPEDIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 363 

ance; and now the time had come to prove it. The 
limbs were nerveless, the eyes were glazing, the voice 
was mute ; earth was fading — receding ; but the 
intelligence — thought, thought lived still. The 'body 
no longer obeyed me — it was no longer mine. All 
sensation ceased, save in' the top of my brain, and 
there was thought still ; it would not die ; but there it 
sat, independent and strong, apparently gathering up 
force, body, and form unto itself. I made an effort to 
forget— to die ; I could not ; but without an effort the 
thought still lived. And now I must say, the spirit 
left the body and hovered above it. So intensely did I 
believe in the utter death of soul and body, or of intelli- 
gence with the body, that I did not desire to live, I 
strove to sleep, to forget, to blot myself out. Senseless 
worm ! ISTature's laws no longer obeyed me ; my 
control over natural things was at an end ; and I found 
myself — where ? you ask. I knew not where. Gloomy 
and sullen, refusing to believe myself a spirit, and yet 
feeling intensely alive, having no desire to be so — can 
you imagine the keen agony of that moment? Pray 
God that you never may ! I, who had denied this thing, 
was now compelled to believe it. TThat ! must I 
myself prove myself to have been deceived, in spito 
of ail I had spoken and written? Was there still a 
reality in the weak imaginings of what I had heard 
men prate ? Oh no ! I could not bear the thought ; I 
would rather die ten thousand deaths than live to prove 
the falsity of my own position. It is true I lived, but 
how, and in what condition ? The location in which I 
was impelled to rest, presented no inducement to the 
sense nor the eyesight; it appeared as one vast, unin- 



364 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

habited country, bleak and gloomy, mountainous^ 
barren of all beauty ; every thing wore a somber-hued 
mantle ; no life broke the leaden atmosphere, whose very 
silence oppressed me and pained my whole being. 
The very waters flowed along sluggishly in their murky 
depths, and seemed as though they were molten lava ; 
death and disease lurking beneath their dark surface. 

Alone, quite alone, I stood in this bleak solitude ; 
still I was fearless and undismayed, still I sought to 
die — to be blotted out. I would not believe that this 
was other than a terrible fantasy of the brain. JSTo 
human being was to be seen, yet I rejoiced in this, for 
had such appeared I should have fled, and hidden 
myself in the clefts of the mountains. The thought of 
my own likeness appearing in any other form, was 
horrible to me. I wandered up and down, gloomy, 
wretched, and incredulous. Proud and defiant I 
sought to be still, yet felt that gnawing pain, that 
yearning desire to know more. I forgot myself in the 
struggle; but the silence and solitude were so incom- 
prehensible that I knew not where to turn. Whom 
could I ask for knowledge ? Where would I bend my 
footsteps to find it % 

" No," I said to myself, " this is a dream, a horrible 
dream — one of those strong delusions under which men 
labor who are grappling with disease and death. I 
shall return to earth and forget this ; it will serve as a 
vision for some of the puppets to profit by." And 
again I held my head erect, waiting to awake from out 
of the unnatural trance. 

I knew not how long I waited, but that my heart 
sickened within me. A great heaviness and sense of 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 365 

desolation fell upon my spirit, a weakness overcame 
me, and I trembled with an undefined dread. I prayed 
— no, I did not then pray — I wished that none might 
see me in the hour of my weakness and great humilia- 
tion. I gradually became accustomed to this scene of 
desolation and dreariness ; it well accorded with my 
spirit's gloomy mood, and I spent long periods of time 
in meditation, deep and profound. I wandered up and 
clown the place I had been compelled to inhabit, 
seeking in vain for some trace by which T might 
discover the laws which forced me thus to be the only 
inhabitant of the country. And I sought long and in 
vain ; I asked not for sympathy nor love, I only asked 
for knowledge, and yet it was denied me. But I 
demanded it with a heart full of revilings toward the 
cause of all my misery. Xo answer came — no marvel 
that it did not to such as I then was. When I would 
blaspheme or when I would rail, I was alike impotent 
— there was no object upon which to vent my feelings, 
or to combat my vengeful threaten ings. 

I prided myself upon my solitary life. I said, "I 
desire no human sympathy ; I could exist without it — 
within myself/' Thus far I had been looking without, 
and had become weary, oh, very weary, of the change- 
less prospect. I turned to look within. Ah ! what 
was there to see but a fountain filled to overflowing 
with bitterness and unbelief, of railing against every 
thing good and lovely; a heart of adamant, walled 
around with brass, impervious alike to fear or love. I 
prayed for slumber: as well might the eagle slumber 
while winging his way through the pure ether of heav- 
en's blue arch, with the sun's rays blazing in his eyes, 



366 THE FUTUEE LIFE. 

as I could forget for a moment that I lived, that I 
thought, that I knew there was a something beyond 
myself, which I yet knew not of. 

I know not how long I tarried in this place, but it 
was a very long time ; the sameness, the monotony, and 
silence were dreadful. The little knowledge only gave 
additional fear and dread of what might next be re- 
vealed. Oh, death to me had been the gate of horrors, 
the plaything of mystery growing greater and denser as 
I proceeded. I knew not how much the pleasure of 
my earth-life had consisted in opposing, assailing, and 
setting at naught the opinions of my fellow-man. It 
had called forth my energy, it had given play to my 
intellect, diversion and recreation to my every-day ex- 
istence ; and now there was none but myself to strive 
against myself. Oh, the utter, utter misery, the want of 
companionship which I then experienced ! At first I 
had thought I would flee from the face of a fellow-being. 
I abhorred the thought of a witness to the downfall of 
my theories, but the rocks gave me no reply when I 
upbraided them for their silence; the winds did not 
fan my cheek 'caressingly, but harshly; the trees ap- 
peared as though formed of rock, so unbending and icy 
were they in their appearance. Every thing seemed 
locked up against me. The grass was crisp and hard, 
and when I sought to hear the waters ripple, there was 
but a hollow 7 echo, as of a moan, from their turbid 
depths. I saw no twinkling star, no silvery moon. 
All was inanimate save me. And who, what was I? 
A thing of life ; of what value was it ? I had better 
be a stone, for then I would be in keeping with the 
scene. My stoicism gave way ; the hard walls of ada- 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 367 

mant were beginning to break down in utter wretch- 
edness for want of sympathy, and I groaned aloud, 
" Who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?" 
And now there arose within me a desire for sympathy ; 
of something which was pervaded by human life. A 
clog would have delighted me ; it would have called 
forth a flood of tears ; something, any thing to which I 
might unbosom my overcharged heart. 

The still, small voice, whose silvery tones I had crushed 
bach for so many years, now came up faint and indis- 
tinctly, as a silver thread; the slightest iar misht have 
snapt the feeling and smothered its tone forever in my 
heart. But the voice grew stronger, and I wished, oh, 
how earnestly, for some human feeling to be aroused 
within my breast. Tears came at length. Strong and 
mighty was the struggle, but the citadel yielded; the 
strong man bowed down and wept like a child. And 
I prayed, as I had prayed when an infant at my mother's 
knee. And I had prayed to God all along; before I 
had known it, but now I felt it. 

It was the beginning of repentance, the breaking 
down of the barriers which had so long kept me sepa- 
rated from the better impulses of love and human sym- 
pathy. Too long had I steeled my spirit against every 
power but that which I vainly conceived was of myself 
and within me. I disdained to own other authority 
than my own ; but now I wished to flee from my- 
self. I wished but to know that there was a power 
beside myself, that I might see it. My earth-life rose 
up and confronted me with nothing but dark images of 
distrust in all things sacred, of reverence for nothing 
good. Gloomy picture ! How it pained me to look 



368 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

back upon the seeds of dissension and unhappiness 
which I had planted in thousands of hearts. I turned 
away and strove to shut my eyes upon the dark picture ; 
but go where I would, my sins still found me out, they 
followed me; and ten thousand voices seemed to up- 
braid me, and point their fingers toward me as the 
author of their great unhappiness. I could not curse 
God and die ; I could no longer oppose the evidence of 
a power which made me a very child in helplessness, 
but not in innocence. My grief was still for myself. 
My repentance was not of the right kind. I was still 
rebellions in the knowledge of my suffering, for I did 
not feel that I merited such punishment as had been 
meted out to my sins ; and I wished, if there was a 
power wise and good, that I might be made to feel it. 
If I had sinned beyond recall, I desired to know for 
what I was thus harshly judged. 

There arose within me at length a most intense desire 
for some intelligent being, with whom I might take 
counsel ; but none came near me. Long and dreary 
seemed the time which I spent in that place, reviewing 
the past, uncertain and unprepared for the future. One 
by one my stern resolutions gave way, and with no 
witness save the voice within, I w r as compelled to ac- 
knowledge, in that dreadful* solitude, that there was a 
power, grand, supreme, and inscrutable. My spirit 
was bowed in shame and deep contrition to the very 
earth, and I prayed, oh, so humbly, that the great Intel- 
ligence would vouchsafe to hear me, to speak in some 
manner, to break the wretched sense of loneliness which 
was becoming insupportable. And I slumbered long 
and deeply ; and a vision was given me, for I thought 



EXPKEIKKCE OF VOLTAIRE. 369 

that bright forms stood beside me. that they soothed 
my weary spirits, that they spoke in silvery tones of 
]ove and peace to my breaking heart. And I thought 
I had left that place of gloom with those bright guides; 
its chill air no longer oppressed, and benumbed my' 
movements ; its death-like quiet was only a dreadful 
dream. But I thank thee, O my God ! that it was no 
dream, but a bright and glorious reality. I had left 
that place, and with it all the repulsive attributes, all 
the dark garments of sin and selfishness, unbelief and 
arrogance, which had so long been my close companions. 
The heart which had seemed as of marble, cold and in- 
sensible, was now fresh and warm. 

Oh ! I had found, sympathy ! Human voices greeted 
me. They took me by the hands, they called me broth- 
er, and they said I had come up from out the vale of re- 
pentance ; that I had learned that God was love and 
all-powerful; that I was but a spirit who depended upon 
that great cause for every breath which gave me life. 
Oh, how sweet were their tones, and how gentle and 
kind their looks ! They led me along by a pleasant 
path, and sought to make me forget the dark place 
which had been mv abode so long. 



PART SECOND. 

I still trembled, uncertain and fearful lest I should 
have to return. But the spirit which acted as my guide 
thus far, bade me not to fear, for I had lived there long 
enough to know my own power, and my own strength 
of endurance. I had learned to crave, yes, even to beg 

16* 



370 t THE FUTURE LIFE, 

for the sympathy which I had before so despised ; I 
would have hailed with joy the most ignorant compan- 
ion which might have been given me, so deeply and 
sensibly w T as I made to know how much I had to depend 
upon others, who formed between me and the Deity the 
chain of electric intelligence. 

Now I found I was wholly ignorant of all the laws 
controlling the newly opened phase of existence before 
me. Now I knew that I lived. It was a pleasant 
hoping life, and there were within me ten thousand 
thoughts, new and undefined, asking for knowledge, 
wishing to grasp it all at once, to compass the whole 
at a glance ; but I fell back upon myself, weak and 
nerveless. 

" Brother," said my guide, " first learn the principles 
which govern the vast system of wisdom revealed before 
thee ; then lay the foundation, stone by stone. It is 
thine own temple ; make it as beautiful as thou desirest, 
but mind that thou dost hew the stones out of the quarry 
of eternal wisdom. Too long hast thou dealt in the 
imagination ; too far-fetched have been thy groundless 
theories ; therefore build not a baseless fabric, which 
shall crumble away from before thine eyes in the hour 
of thy need and thy trial. The structure which thou 
didst erect for thyself while on earth, was not sufficient 
for thy support when thou hadst left it ; it proved even 
as thy works, unstable. There is within thee a man- 
hood which, is thine own ; there are within thee great 
thoughts struggling for utterance, which long have lain 
dormant; let them burst their bonds. Therefore, be 
free, and try thy newly fledged wings, and see if thou 
canst find aught worthy of thy labor in this sphere. 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 371 

Long thou didst stand alone in thy supposed strength 
and might. Stand alone still, when thou canst, but 
when thou dost need assistance, thou hast brothers and 
equals who will gladly aid thee. Thou dost behold 
but a hand's breath, vast and boundless as these do- 
mains appear to thee, and yet thou canst not tread one 
inch of this holy ground but what is teeming with hid- 
den knowledge, precious wisdom. Dost thou behold 
the many souls who are passing and repassing thee? 
Their numbers seem countless, but everv one of them 
is more exalted than thou, because they are more hum- 
ble. But thou hast not outlived all of earth and its 
errors; yet thou wilt overcome them one by one, and 
daily thou wilt acknowledge that man's heart is a 
universe, wherein is contained all the mystery, all the 
beauty, and all the love of the divine Godhead, con- 
stantly unfolding a spark at a time; but never, never 
canst thou imagine the heights and the depths to 
which it shall reach in the unending cycles of eternal 
thought." 

I was fired with enthusiasm. I would now obtain 
new knowledge, new power. I would go back and con- 
fess my errors, and astonish mankind by the new revela- 
tion. It was a boyish dream, conceived in a moment, 
but not to be carried out until many, many long years 
had rolled away, and been forgotten in eternity's great 
gulf. 

Said my guide : — 

"Dost thou conceive that thou woulclst be welcome 
shouldst thou again return to earth ? Nay, I tell thee 
thine own followers would hoot at thee ; they would call 
thee a thing of the imagination. Dost thou not know 



0T£ TnE FUTURE LIFE. 

that the wise, the good, and the loving, who have passed 
from thy world to this long before thee, have endeav- 
ored to do the same thing which strikes thee as a novel 
idea ? They have gone back and been received by the 
few, but refused by the many ; because man understood 
not the goodness of God, nor the laws of his own being. 
Thou thyself couldst not return, for thou hast placed a 
great barrier in thine own way. But fix thy thoughts and 
use thy energies in thy present home. Thou dost love 
power ; thou canst obtain it. Thou askest for knowl- 
edge. It may be had for labor. Thy face is now 
turned in the right direction. Thou hast felt thine 
own weakness, yea, and thou hast felt thine own 
strength, unaided by the power above thee. As thou 
wert great in evil to thy fellow-men, it is thy privilege 
and thy duty to become great and mighty in the bene- 
fits which thou canst confer upon them. Thou canst 
become an instrument now, to counteract the very 
power which thou didst labor to build up. And inas- 
much as than didst crush back the divine voice speak- 
ing within thee, striving for utterance, but grieved and 
silenced by thy power, thou must now go to others and 
call it forth in their hearts, strengthen them in their 
struggles that they may not be as thou wast, and thou 
shalt become a beloved one among us, when thy works 
shall testify to the greatness of thy love and the repent- 
ance of thy soul. For remember, that for every angelic 
gift which is given thy soul, tenfold labor will be required 
of thee to balance the gift. By thy works thou wilt 
render thyself worthy to mingle with the wise and the 
pure ; and only as thy love to God develops within thy 
soul shalt thou be permitted to know and feel its sym- 



EXPEDIENCE OF VOLTAIBE. -373 

pathies with those like thyself. Thy life was peculiar 
even so thy repentance bears the same form of repara 
tion." 

Wisely he spoke. He knew me better than I knew 
myself. Long and earnestly did I labor, thought laden. 
I communed with the spirits of the past only in spirit — 
they could not come near me ; and I conceived of such 
mysterious knowledge to be obtained by me, such god- 
like power, that at times it almost maddened me. 1 
could not understand it, so overwhelming did it seem. 
lS"ew light, beauties, fresh and glowing from the hand 
of Deity, would strike me speechless. Infinite wisdom ! 
the like of which only angels could bear down in small 
portions to the little pulsating thing called spirit. Oh, 
how I travailed ! The thought, the power which came 
upon me was too great. I was smaller than a particle 
of dust in the sunbeam. I was less than a thought, 
and yet I lived. O life ! Strange mystery ! When 
the immensity of power would crush you out of exist- 
ence, then the spirit asserts its kindred with divinity ; 
it can not die, it will not be blotted out. It lives as I 
lived, to feel the resistless knowledge which I had 
asked for; and when it did come, oh, I could only bow 
my head and thank my God that I lived. Man, could 
I tell you how my spirit had soared far up among the 
wonders, the galaxy of his star-gemmed beauty, I would 
ask the countless worlds to speak, and send down an 
echo, that ye might know how very glorious, how vast 
and extended, beyond your grandest conceptions, are 
the systems which he holds in his hands. I would tell 
to man the bright destiny which awaits him, but I can 
not, only a very small part, because word.-*, such as you 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 



know, are inadequate to express the mystery of power. 
And then I would tell you of the power within man ; I 
would show you in its varied phases of development, 
the thought which is given to man, which raises him 
far from earth, among the archangels in power. And 
I would tell you how one great mind may struggle, and 
force its way upward, leaving behind him countless 
millions, toiling and striving, while he may soar up as 
the eagle, bold and fearless. And he may hear sounds 
and see sights, he may know mysteries such as man 
hath never dreamed of, such as spirits have not seen, 
such as the archangels dare not reveal, because it be- 
longs not to the earth. It never descends, but is accessi- 
ble to him who grasps it. Who will have it, it is his 
own. Oh, when man does know the power which lies 
within himself, he is an archangel, his progress can not 
be opposed ; it tends upward toward the divine center ; 
it draws him near that blazing light, and into that vor- 
tex which is only approached by the sons and daughters 
who lived far back in the olden days, when they walked 
and talked with God as children. 

There is a land of rest for those who need it, and 
there are worlds of research for those who deserve it, 
teeming with light, redolent with beauty, inexhaustible 
in wisdom; and so illimitable that all humanity which 
ever has been, or ever will be upon this small center of 
intelligence, will be but an infant school, in numbers 
and size. 

Children of earth, ask for knowledge, and it will be 
given you. When ye have received it, then ye know 
that ye have power. Cease not to struggle ; do not 
get weary, nor faint by the wayside, Te have only 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 375 

taken hold of the first link in the sparkling chain which 
leads up to the grand center; countless millions of times 
shall ye revolve around it before ye reach it. 

But I can not now give you more. My voice is faint 
and weak; your words are few, and inadequate to con- 
vey my thoughts. I have shown you very imperfectly 
the first chapter in my life, when I entered the abode 
of spirits. I tried to give you a glance into the upper 
glories, but the time has not yet come. The heavens 
are unfolding as a scroll of light, and the day of new 
things is dawning upon the children of men, and they 
shall know, because God hath willed it so, and sent his 
holy spirits to tell them that they are free, because truth 
is free, and light is free. And God hath said, "Let 
there be light," and lo, it cometh so soon as men can 
bear it. Therefore prepare yourselves to receive it. 



PART THIRD. 



After having entered upon the duties of my new 
state of life, I again commenced the study of character ; 
and I discovered that it was still men and women witli 
whom I had to deal. Their pursuits and their nature 
surely were different from those I had just left, but still 
there was the same peculiarity of character manifested, 
in different degrees, in every individual whom I accosted. 
True, the sphere in which I was placed was peopled by 
those of an elevated character, but how plainly did the 
earth-life of each one portray itself upon every lineament 
of their countenances. It marked their actions, con- 



376 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

trolled their associations, and for a time I almost forgot 
that I had left earth's plane for another and higher. 

It was a curious study to observe how each one ap- 
proached me according to the feelings which he had 
imbibed respecting me. The rigid churchman would 
approach me cautiously, carefully, and express his feel- 
ings in the form of a prayer — that I had been snatched 
as a brand from the burning; that I had been stopped 
short in my mad career, and brought suddenly to a 
sense of my awful condition ; and then leave me with 
a promise to help me with his prayers. The freethinker, 
the philosopher, they would take me by the hand and 
welcome me to the land of reality, the birthplace of 
wisdom. It was very pleasant to meet with those whose 
minds were free and expanding. They could overlook 
my weakness and give me strength ; they could under- 
stand why I had committed the unpardonable sin of 
speaking my thoughts, although they brought con- 
demnation, lasting, bitter, and deep, upon my memory. 

I was in a strange company, and strange emotions 
filled my soul. They were all striving for something, 
just as eagerly as while on earth, and yet I could not 
sympathize with them in the manner in which they 
made search for the all-absorbing object which was to 
confer great happiness. Many were contented to move 
slowly and cautiously, to labor laboriously for a little, 
when with the same effort they might have received a 
great deal ; they were unable to grasp it, and so they 
went plodding along. 

Some approached me with marvelous stories of what 
they had seen and heard — the mysteries which their 
eyes had beheld, and their hands had touched. But to 



EXPERIENCE OF YOLTAIEE. 377 

me their tale was a fleeting shadow. I wanted the 
proof; to see, to know for myself, was what I desired; 
because as often as they went away they returned empty- 
handed; nothing benefited, nothing wiser, for they re- 
turned into the same place which they had occupied 
before their departure. 

The spirit -habitation is one perpetual panoramic 
change. As the spirit arises and develops, it leaves 
behind it the old surroundings, and is constantly gain- 
ing new positions and facilities for improvement. This 
is always in accordance with the rapidity of its desires. 

I had commenced far back in humility and prayer ; 
I had raised my eyes upward. I was building a founda- 
tion which I hoped would tower up into grand propor- 
tions, the beauty and symmetry of which it would make 
my heart glad to look upon. Step by step I groped 
my way, using every aid from all sources within my 
reach. How ardently. I searched into the deep and 
hidden things which I knew were concealed from my 
hungry gaze. I traveled over great space, that I might 
see and converse with those minds of the past ages who 
had acquired the knowledge for which I sought, and 
the means were given me to make my researches suc- 
cessful. I could not long remain in the presence of 
those wise men, for when I would draw thought from 
the store-house of their knowledge, their words would 
till me with unspeakable wonder ; yes, even one word 
would contain a volume of knowledge which I could 
not grasp, because of its magnitude in comparison with 
my limited power of receiving it. To me it was not 
a world of shadows, but of great and startling realities; 
not only did the immortal spirit speak, but every leaf, 



378 THE FUTURE LIFE. " 

every blade of grass, every sun-kissed flower gave forth 
a language deep, thrilling, and impressive. Well it is 
for man that his spirit can not comprehend its own 
littleness, nor its own greatness. "Well it is that for 
him there is a school, wterein he may glean the first 
lessons fitted to the scope of his awakening intellect. 
And let him pray that he may not know the power, the 
world of power within himself, until the world without, 
in all its mysterious phases, physical and spiritual, is 
understood and analyzed by him. 

All men can not be gods in wisdom, and some must 
be children before they can see the power which lurks 
within themselves. 

He of whom I spoke before, counseled me not to seek 
too much at first. And yet knowledge was so beautiful ! 
It gave me power, and power was what I loved ; but 
now I did not want to exercise it as I once had done, 
to swerve men's minds from the better promptings which 
they could receive from without, as well as from within ; 
but I desired it for myself, that I might leave the busy, 
bustling multitude behind me, and soar away into the 
illimitable space alone, to grapple with its mysteries 
unabashed; to look upon the dread secrets of the Deity's 
universe. My thoughts rose higher, my desires sunk 
deeper than my power extended. Then I said, "I will 
go to those who know that which I thirst for. They 
shall tell me how to obtain it ; they shall lead me to 
what my soul so earnestly craves.'' They shook their 
heads at my request, and told me I was presump- 
tuous : " For," said they, u you are but a child — a new- 
comer into this state of being. Labor patiently, as 
your fellow-men are doing, and prepare yourself by 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 379 

degrees to receive the unfolding glories which it is your 
privilege to behold." They but mocked me. I turned 
in mute hopelessness; my spirit chafed, and beat against 
its prison bars because of the delay. " Why should I 
wait? I fear not; I pause not; I am strong to endure. 
I will encounter great and unheard-of pangs to be 
admitted within the sacred precincts of hidden things! 
The light may dazzle, the sight may even blind me, 
but why this gnawing desire? Why this drawing up- 
ward, this attraction which stops not midway, but is 
lost in dim conjecture and unsatisfied longing? I see a 
glimpse of the world beyond ; they call it a sphere, and 
yet it is but a higher state — a purer atmosphere. It is 
heaven within my view — can I not reach it? I behold 
it as a sun-lighted landscape of ravishing beauty — ■ 
mountain and valley, hill and dale, ocean and streamlet, 
moon and stars — all natural, but oh, how sublimely 
beautiful in their great and expanded proportions ! 
Naught separates the beauteous picture from my view 
but a cloud-like haze, a thin, transparent veil. It is 
distant, but I see it, and the voice within me tells me it 
is my own. Then why will 1 tarry here ? I have 
learned all that is fitting for me to know, and yet I can 
not ascend." My soul was sad; its yearning desire was 
unfulfilled. It is true, there were numberless minds 
surrounding me, whose knowledge was greater than 
mine, whose natures were more loving and benevolent, 
more social in their feelings toward their fellow-men ; 
but the intelligence from which I sprung thus formed 
my being, and could I re-create myself other than I was ? 
!>To ; I cared not for the dazzling prospects of bliss, and 
joy, and beauty which men called happiness. To me 



380 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

it was dream-like and misty, leaving naught but hollow 
echoes to fill up the void when the scene had passed. 

Do you call me ungrateful and ungodly, denying and 
denouncing that beautiful heaven which the Father had 
spread out before my wondering eyes? Oh, no; my 
devotion was not of the external part ; my desire was 
not for the things which are seen by the eyes alone. 
In the depths of my soul I thanked my God for so much 
of light as he had vouchsafed me, but I struggled to get 
nearer. Ten thousand newly-formed worlds of thought, 
and wisdom, and knowledge seemed bursting into life 
from the center of my own being. 

What was I? Less than a man, and yet within me 
were the elements of a Grod ; power, strong, grasping, 
earnest, beseeching for something, any thing to unlock 
the pent-up fountains and let the waters flow forth, 
that I might look upon that which had been within 
myself. If it was life and thought, then was it reaching 
after the center from which it emanated. Was it power? 
Oh, then let ine give it scope and compass ! Was it 
good or evil? I knew it was good; the still, small 
voice which urged my utterance told me that a universe 
of thought was rushing across the threshold of mv soul. 
For I stood alone, alone, trembling with eagerness to 
pierce through the veil — to behold face to face those 
whose names were almost forgotten upon earth. I 
would see them and hear them; I would, walk and talk 
familiarly, as with brothers; for bad not they struggled, 
too, as I was now doing? I stood upon a plane of 
glorious beauty and transparent light ; but then I could 
see that beyond which was more inviting still. 

Why should I linger below when there were messen- 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. . 381 

gers constantly bearing back and forth some spirits who 
had lived out their allotted time, and were ascending to 
partake of the joys beyond ? I could not wait ; so long 
a time would crush and paralyze my spirit's impatient 
throbbings. Oh, I lived long years, which you would 
count as but days, so slowly did the time pass away, 
my desires were so urgent. 

At length I was counseled to prepare for my journey 
and what should compose my garb, and render me a 
fitting object to approach that place. I was clad in 
robes by wise and mighty counselors. Faith and Per- 
severance, Humility and Progress were written on each 
garment that I wore ; and then commenced my long 
journey through the wonders of space; Faith, the star 
which guided my pathway ; Hope, the light which lured 
me on ; Strength, the staff upon which I leaned ; Prayer, 
the bread which filled my soul, and the Celestial Heaven, 
the home which beckoned me upward to survey its 
glorious wonders. 

PART FOU RTH. 

And now turn over another leaf, and I will reveal to 
you further what was given me to know in my infant 
existence, while treading the wonder-woven courts of 
the upper spheres. 

As I became more conscious of the wisdom shut out 
from my view, so did I daily feel how my greatness had 
made me as nothing, when weighed in the scale of 
actual and divine value. I had arrayed myself in regal 
robes, and turned my gaze above, thinking to pierce 
with my untutored eyes the realms of grander beauty 



382 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

than those plains on which I stood. The mountain 
path seemed easy of ascent, and the road looked invit- 
ing and pleasant in the distance, and I said, " I need 
none to guide me,, I will press onward alone. There 
can be no foes to impede my pathway, no obstacle to 
turn me back, when worlds so sublime in their inviting 
grandeur beckon me upward. My companions would 
persuade me to tarry with them longer ; but no ! my 
soul had partaken of the richest feast which they could 
present, and I would away to where celestial wonders 
would satisfy my longing appetite. They told me I 
would need a guide; but who and what were they 
which would render such a companion necessary ?" 

Fearlessly I started to mount upward ; the stars 
beneath my feet sang a hymn of joy, and the atmos- 
phere surrounding me was filled with thousands of 
loving friends, bidding me God-speed on my journey 
up the holy mount. 

Joyful and elate, I waved them adieu, and soon was 
lost to their sight in the winding and mysterious path- 
way, with no guide but my irresistible thirst to pluck 
from its hiding-place all unrevealed knowledge which 
gives to man earth's loftiest power. 

Who shall describe the marvels of that journey? 
Alone, and yet millions of voices seemed penetrating 
my heart by their silent tones ; my being seemed per- 
forated with mingling thoughts not its own. I bad 
thought to run, yea, with rapid strides, to climb the 
mountain which leads to the City of God. Presumptuous 
spirit! how mistaken still in thy ambitious soarings. I 
can not, nay, I dare not, tread the holy ground without 
having first earned the right, the privilege to touch its 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 3S3 

consecrated surface. I entered the pathway, and surely 
it is paved with the eternal rocks of holy thought, and 
its verdure contains essences, subtle to penetrate, to 
vitalize and vivify the daring immortal who treadeth 
its passages. Already had my soul been overcome by 
its invisible power, had not some viewless presence 
held me erect. 

The pathway is a strange one ; it seemed short and 
easy to climb, it seemed wondrously beautiful to enter ; 
but souls, ye who have but entered the first habitation 
of spirit-life and reality ; ye who have put on pleasure 
as a garment, and joy as a bridal robe, ye know not 
how many vistas of changing thought thy souls shall 
give birth to, nor ye know not how the child shall 
merge into the man, before ye emerge out of that path 
of life-producing wisdom. The spirit seems baptized 
as in the waters of a new river; it exults in what it 
hath found ; and yet the sparkling waters but tempt 
with their glancing brightness far deeper draughts. 

There again did I pause to learn a new lesson. I 
had quaffed of the river of knowledge; my soul had 
been made glad, and light, and joyous ; but oh, I must 
pay for the boon ! I must plunge beneath the surface, 
that I may deck myself with gems which shall light my 
path, and precious stones which shall prove the depth 
of my research, the ardor of my wishes ; and on each 
shall be written words which shall open to me the barred 
gates of greater joys. 

Lo! the river is passed, and I am met by one who 
seems to wear the human form ; and yet I dare not 
speak of him as human, for around him there breathes 
melodious airs ; he seems to be a living wave of harmo- 



384: THE PUTUEH LIFE. 

ny — a thought, which one harsh sound might cause to 
vanish. He speaks to me, and my spirit takes note of 
what he says in humblest reverence. 

" What art thou seeking, solitary child of the spirit ? 
Hast so soon become dissatisfied with thy first birth I 
Did the lower valley of peace, where so many of thy 
memory dwell, fail to satisfy thee ? Methinks thou 
hast soon wearied of the first land of promise in which 
thou wert placed. If thou dost think to penetrate this 
avenue, thy soul must indeed be filled with great love, 
mighty faith, and holy ardor. Earth's children labor 
long and diligent where thou hast come from, and even 
then they do not enter the sacred precincts alone. 
Look to the right and to the left, and thou wilt behold 
that which thy secret thoughts had never imagined. 
The handiwork of "Wisdom, in its great creative 
universe, will now be opened before thee as a changing 
panorama. The causes which brought thee into being, 
the changes through which thy spirit must pass, and 
the eternal destiny to which thou art tending. The 
secrets of thine olden earth-home shall be to thee as a 
well-read book ; ^and that which seemed secret and 
subtle to thy understanding, will disclose itself as a 
volume, containing no mystery, but replete with the 
voice of God's power, making thy wisdom a thing to 
be ashamed of." 

And thus I had entered upon a journey of which I 
knew not. Its perils seemed as naught in comparison 
with the glories beyond. But my spirit seemed to 
have lived through centuries while traversing so short 
a distance as I had already proceeded. The beautiful 
one said to me : — 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 0^0 

u Thou canst not return ; thou hast tasted of the 
waters of knowledge ; thou hast gazed upon the eternal 
store-house wherein is the power to exalt and beautify." 

" Nay," I said, " I have no wish to return. But the 
way seems long, and the path is not a path, but a suc- 
cession of overwhelming revealings. I am but as one 
man ; how then shall I be able to gaze upon that which 
is to come? The expansion of thought necessary to 
receive but a portion of these divine joys, will crush out 
the small spark which now seems to animate my being. 
I had thought to grasp every power, and hold it in my 
hand. I had sought to be whatever man might be in 
his upward career to the fount, the center of life ; and 
now I have but taken the first few steps, and heard a 
few sounds of wisdom from the vast birthplace of light, 
and I totter and tremble with a feeling of nothingness 
apd of the vanity which prompted such lofty ambition. 

spirit of purity and harmony ! I feel that I am but 
the breath of a thought, but the faintest echo of living 
life. Let me depart, let me shrink into my own noth- 
ingness, for the magnitude of intelligence from which 

1 sprung, the grandeur of conception from whose vast 
mind I emanated, will take no note of me ; let me but 
shrivel and die as the moth who flutters around the 
flame — too mighty hath been the ordeal for my faint- 
ing, withering spirit to rise and live through." 

Again the white presence spoke, in tones thrilling 
and solemn : — 

" Up, child of earth and of spirit. Hath the blessing 

been too big for thee to bear? Doth thy spirit already 

shrink, which started so boldly and fearlessly to tread 

the holy mount ? Be strong with the breath of supreme 

17 



386 THE FUTUKE LIFE. 

life in thy being, and press onward. Many have gone 
before thee, and many will come after thee forever ; 
but they who are born of earth must pass through num- 
berless births of purified being, of rarefied existence — 
expanding and concentrating power and force, w r isdom 
and being, in mighty and massive development — ere 
they reach that inner court. When thou shalt have 
traveled beyond me, strength and hope will again make 
thee bold and fearless. Behold ! even now thy brow 
is radiant with new-born thought, thine eyes are filled 
with a light which passeth the boundaries of thine own 
being. Thou dost desire knowledge ; here thou must 
obtain it before thou canst pass farther on. Be not rash 
nor impatient, but wait that it may flow into thy soul 
as a river of music, a flood, which will bear thee on its 
bosom, and set thee on the throne of those who rule 
because of their unfolded wisdom. Wouldst thou kno.w 
the power by which Deity holds the universe of worlds 
and life and thought in his hand ? then seek within thine 
own soul for some hidden germ of power which thou 
hadst not seen. Wouldst thou be the wise philosopher, 
wouldst thou make science thy servant, and all wisdom 
thy handmaiden ? Then seek to grasp but a little at a 
time ; gradually it will grow upon thee. Thou shalt 
bring out latent qualities, yea, godlike attributes, 
which are still lurking in thine own soul, but dare not 
reveal themselves because of thy limited development. 
Even as God is thy father, and thou art his child, so 
doth great power descend upon thee as a mantle, and 
as a child art thou led through the changing phases of 
earth-life and spirit-being. And as thou dost gradually 
expand, like the opening flower beneath the rays of the 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 387 

Sun of Wisdom, by decrees are the kevs given to thee 
one "by one, to unlock the grand and godlike powers 
slumbering in thy panting soul. Press on, young 
spirit ; thou art only tasting and gaining glimpses of 
the feast prepared for thee above; for there is not -in 
the depth of thy soul one hungering wish, one far-off 
vision of dreamy splendor and towering sublimity, but 
thy Father hath placed it there, and also hath given 
within thy power the means whereby to reach it." 

And again I wept. My manhood had brought me 
back to childhood ; self was forgotten, and gratitude 
was triumphant in my soul that I was the child of so 
glorious a Father. I laughed, I danced with delight, 
because here was a new birth. As I approached 
nearer in thought, and spirit,- and desire to my Father, 
he owned his child, for he filled my heart with love 
and rejoicing unspeakable. 

He who had told me such marvelous things now 
blessed me and left me ; and again I pressed onward. 
The way seemed easier, the air was softer, my spirits 
more elastic ; a childlike feeling pervaded my being. I 
seemed to have thrown away all the memories which 
had ever been mine. I had emerged into a new state 
of youth and happy innocence. Strange and significant 
were the things which now greeted me at every turn. 
Here I met some of earth's children still tarrying by 
the wayside, from whose memory thousands of years 
had passed ; yea, for many paths diverge from that and 
lead to others, but all lesser, and all being one link 
connecting with the great chain. Here they had found 
what their spirits had longed and yearned for ; here 
was the long-sought Eureka, the beautiful path which 



388 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

]ed to the knowledge their lifetime desired. No marvel 
if they stopped by the wayside, if they turned into the 
flower-fringed path, and forgot for many of thy years 
the great object of their journey. And when I spoke 
to them they wept, as earth's children w T eep, with joy ; 
and they asked me news of the place which I had left. 
So absorbed were they in their treasure, whose image 
had been born on earth, but given them in heaven, that 
they hugged it to their bosoms regardless of every thing 
else, nor wished to leave it. Ah ! they tarried by the 
wayside. I bade them adieu and passed on. I gleaned 
a little from each, which gave me strength to glide on- 
ward. 

I could tell thee of stately palaces, I could tell thee of 
all beauty, which givetli to mortals pleasure while on 
earth, both of nature and of art, in high degrees of 
perfection, which lured many a traveler to tarry by the 
way. Some had indeed forgotten that there were other 
heavens beyond ; they craved no greater, no brighter, 
no better. They enjoined me to stay. The sage would 
tell me the wonders of his lore, the heaven of his re- 
search. The artist, the poet, the dreamer, would all 
persuade me that heaven was there with them, none 
other beyond ; and I sought of my soul an answer, and 
from the deep came its whisper clear and strong, " I 
hunger, hunger still." 

I left them as mile-stones to point the way, to 
measure the distance if I were permitted to return. A 
higher destiny beckoned me on ; the chain seemed 
brightening and sparkling as I ascended, and the light, 
above me w T as tilled with sounds, as if angelic beings 
guarded my pathway. Above me were voices which 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. S89 

spoke in thunder-tones, and shook the foundations of 
my soul, filling me with mighty impulse, showing to 
me the glorified state of those whose hearts were filled 
with the knowledge . and love of the Father, and who 
labored as gods to upraise and beautify, to purify and 
develop those below them. Below me were the 
obstacles which belonged to myself. Ah ! these were 
they which troubled me most. I had thought never to 
falter, nor turn aside again, but who shall mark out his 
footsteps \ Who shall know whither they point when 
treading the hallowed ground of the heavenly spheres ? 
I might go forward, but how many tilings hold me 
back. Pursuits befitting all rational minds are here 
presented in their harmonious perfection of art and 
beauty ; all that which is wise and useful in man's 
organic being, which has only found utterance on earth 
as a rivulet, here becomes a great ocean in the perfec- 
tion of its symmetrical development. Countless pur- 
suits, of countless minds, bear man on the tide of 
research to their haunts, to their cities, to their beauti- 
ful dwellings of peace and joy. Why do I hunger or 
thirst more? Do I not stand on the walls which 
encircle the city, the land of my labor? Sentinels 
guard its entrance, they float through the air in cloud- 
like garments of all beautiful hues ; rainbows arch the 
firmament with a promise of welcome to the wandering 
soul. The road which I entered seemed narrow at the 
beginning, and lo ! it hath become so broad, that mine 
eyes can not measure its great dimensions. Bands of 
sweet-voiced spirits fill the air; they bear in their hands 
fresh and dewy flowers, emblems of truth and purity. 
But although they smile on me, they do not bid me 



390 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

enter. I had thought to have entered the gate. Why 
am I forbidden ? 

A group approaches me; -they form about me a 
circle, and one, a gentle and beauteous being — ah ! she 
looks as my mother once looked in my infant eyes — she 
speaks, and my soul inclines to her voice. 

" Why doth thy face look sad, and thy steps become 
slow ; didst thou hope to enter suddenly upon the sacred 
boundaries of our upper heavens ? We welcome thy 
presence, as a new-born spirit among our ranks; but not 
yet, hasty traveler, art thou prepared to enter within the 
holy of holies — the City of God. JSTo taint of earth, or . 
its sister sphere, may linger upon thy garments, nor per- 
meate thy being, but wisdom, whose expansive power 
shall make thy soul glow and burn as the sun in the fir- 
mament of heaven, must purify and beautify thine outer 
being, and Divine Love, of whose essence the angels 
breathe, must blend and unite with that wisdom, that 
thou mayest be a meet companion for those whose 
dwelling is beyond. Thou hast but tried the first 
flight of thy fledgeling wings ; thou but knowest thy 
own weakness. How like to the seed thou art, which 
would fain burst into a flower; but take heed lest 
the light be too great for thy strength, and consume 
what is gained. Let thy soul be contented to dwell in 
the outer courts of the sacred mansion. Seek not to 
dazzle thine eyesight before thou art prepared to enter 
as one of the chosen band, who have earned that guer- 
don, by countless years of toil, by agonizing thought 
and labor-laden bondage. Look abroad, and let thine 
eyes behold the treasures scattered about thee. Did thy 
childhood or thy youth ever dream of aught so beautiful 






EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 391 

in thy shadowy imaginings ? Or did thy practical 
manhood ever ask for more real and tangible founda- 
tions on which to erect eternal structures. Ask what 
thou wilt for the good of thy soul's expanding power, 
and straightway art thou directed to bathe in the knowl- 
edge which giveth a more perfected understanding. But 
do not ask for that which thou knowest not of, or thou 
wilt be as the foolish ones who grovel below. Thou 
canst not be an archangel in might ; thou canst not soar 
from world to world on viewless wings, carrying divin- 
ity's thoughts to make alive other systems; thou hast 
not yet lived to forget the birth of thy humanity in 
earth's dust and ashes, but thou dost stand as one glit- 
tering, living star among many others ; thy light is 
wavering, now faint, now strong. 

" Thou hast risen on the wings of faith and gazed 
beyond the boundaries of the past, but thy soul is yet a 
trembling, unsteady intelligence, amid this grandeur of 
divine mechanism. Thou must still be as one of thy 
brethren, who are striving beneath thee ; and as, spark 
by spark, the divine fire glows forth which is within 
thee, in the strength and majesty of its kindred with 
Deity ; then shall thine eyes see, and thy spirit know 
that man becometh great in power as he ascendeth ; 
that he is godlike in wisdom, that the elements are his 
slaves, that the keys of nature's hidden mysteries are in 
his hands, that unspeakable grandeur and glory de- 
scendeth from the spirit of his Father, and because of 
Lis love he hath created us like unto himself, he hath 
made of us kings and priests in wisdom and love. And 
as dome after dome opens in our upward flight, we 
change and are changing, but still the same spark, faint 



392 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

though it were, living and individualizing each being, 
ever burns clear and undimmed. We know ourselves, 
and in that knowledge we know our God. The future 
destiny which awaits the earth-bound spirit is no 
fleeting shadow, no airy mystery, but it hath form 
and thought, far-reaching as the thought of Infinity. 
The shadow is earth, the reality is spirit ; the earth- 
life is the vision, the waking of the spirit is the chain 
whose broken links first waked thee~ to being. Thy 
span of life, what is it ? A thought, a flash, which but 
wakes thee to the journey before thee. Oh, earth's sur- 
face, would seem too small for thee to stand upon while 
hearing the one great voice through which Infinity 
speaks to thy blossoming intellect ! Return to thy 
labor, illimitable as it appears. Gird thyself about with 
the wisdom thou hast earned ; if thou hast made it thine 
own, then has it become to thee a power and a staff. 
Open broad the window of thy soul that it may expand 
and glow in the new light which giveth vitality and 
power. And when thy wishes and thy labors, thy man- 
hood and thy powers have become harmonized into one 
blending of angel-shaped harmony, then mayest thou 
knock for entrance at the silvery gate; and then will 
the archangel bid thee enter in majesty and joy ; and 
upon thy head will be placed a crown of rejoicing for 
evermore. 

" Spirit, go back with the vision in thy heart, and see 
that thou dost profit by its teachings, ere thou dost ven- 
ture and hunger again to climb up the pathway of the 
holy mount."* 

* At this point the communication through Mrs. Sweet ended. Her 
health continuing to decline, did not permit the spirits to have a strong 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 393 

S.lie ceased speaking, and my angel visitants departed, 
leaving me in the half-conscious condition of one who 
is unwilling to awake from the sweet and soothing in- 
fluences of a joyous dream. I scarcely dared to breathe, 
and the faculties of my spirit — although each was inten- 
sified and quickened — seemed too harsh in their vibra- 
tions, and I almost inclined to the belief that yet another 
death awaited me, ere I could attain that condition of 
wisdom and purity which would permit me to knock at 
the u silvery gate.*' As the vision with all its invigor- 
ating reality passed from me, I began to gather up the 
gems of truth which had fallen from the lips of the 
beautiful one. And as one gathers flowers which are 
scattered when the golden band which bound them is 
unclasped, so did I set me to work to see which of all 
was most beautiful. 

Surrounded still bv the aroma of their magnetic 
power, I gazed and pondered upon each and every 

or long-continued control of her person. More than twelve years passed 
away. Mrs. Sweet had long been in the spirit- world. On the 17th of 
December, 1868, I called at the residence of a medium (Mrs. Staats, in 
Amity Street, New York), and while there a number of my old and highly 
valued spirit-friends came and greeted me with a kind welcome. Among 
others, Voltaire announced himself, and reminded me of the incidents 
of our last meeting and conversation in 1858, while in the woods near 
Fontainebleau, in France ; and also spoke of the times when I acted as 
his amanuensis, while he was speaking through Mrs. Sweet. In the 
course of our interview, I said to him, that his last communication 
through Mrs. Sweet appeared to be left unfinished, and asked him if he 
could give me something to make the story more complete. He an- 
swered, ' ; Yes, lie would do so," and immediately wrote out, very rapidly, 
through the hand of the medium, the rest of it as it is here given. It 
may be well to add the fact, that Mra. Staats had never heard of not- 
read the forego: 



894 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

one ; and when I could move, I saw and felt that not 
one of the smallest leaflets could be wasted. These 
then were my talents ; and as the artificial wants of my 
body had hidden them from my spiritual gaze, I must 
now go back to the earth-life and improve every inert 
faculty ; and by opening wide the windows of my soul, 
I could give light, air, and freshness to the germs which 
I now saw struggling to come forth, to gladden my 
spirit-life, each in its particular sphere of usefulness. I 
now saw charity, sweet charity — not that sound which 
swells out with brazen tongue the misdeeds of a mis- 
guided intellect ; nor yet the ring and clink of coins 
dropped in the feeble and palsied hand to eke out a few 
more days of burdened life- — nay, it was not such a 
sound, nor was it such as wealth and pomp bestows, 
that its great name may go abroad, making credit and 
position in the world, the sure and immediate security 
for such popular outlay. Nay, I saw charity as a con- 
stantly-spreading tree, whose flowers dropped sw^eet and 
refreshing dews upon the fevered brow of sin and tempta- 
tion. Under its broad shelter, sweet, strong, and loving 
angels sat to welcome and beckon in the tempest-tost. 
From this grateful shelter went out myriads of minister- 
ing spirits, each freighted with something peculiarly 
adapted to the needs of weak and bruised humanity. 

And as I looked upon this germ, capable of covering 
such a multitude, immediately came the desire, and 
with it a voice saying to my spirit, " Go ye and 
teach Christian charity, scatter the seeds from whence 
will spring fruit a hundredfold." " But this," said I, 
" is only one of the flowers of the garland, how shall I 
employ the others?" And the answer came, "Begin 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 3f*0 

with charity, and in it you will find so much of th 
kingdom of heaven, that it will be the nucleus aroun- 
and from which all other things will extend." 

In my earth-experience, I remembered how vastly 
different I had regarded all things from my fellow-men, 
and although men had been attracted tome, I had com- 
paratively few friends. I had lived in two separate 
kingdoms of my own : that of the intellect and of intui- 
tion. I had given the former supremacy over the latte>. 
from the early habit of reading, and like all persons of 
the present day, in attempting to kill any special sub- 
ject distasteful to my spirit, I had killed faith in almost 
every thing; and thus the two kingdoms were constantly 
at war. Hence, I readily saw what the angel meant, 
when she told me to gird myself about with the wisdom 
I had gained ; and to tune myself to angel-shaped har- 
mony, was but to control my intellect and render it 
subservient to my spirit-intuitions, for they being of the 
spirit could not be subjected to the tyranny of educa- 
tion. I had believed myself wise, and yet I had not in 
all my life drawn in through the great resources of the 
intellect, and by education, one tithe of what had been 
granted me upon this one joyous meeting with the 
angels. This seen, my duty was plain, and my entire 
plan of duty and usefulness seemed spread out before 
me — to teach charity and tell humanity the power of 
reasoning through and with the intuitions. 

I began from those cardinal points, and as yet I have 
never failed, in whatever point I am attracted, to quicken 
and find on the record of every living soul, something 
which answers to God or the angels, speaking direct to 
them at times of great need. Nor do I ever mistake 



396 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

the pulsations of charity working through wisdom and 
love, tracing causes which, when placed before even 
earthly tribunals of justice, will say, " Let him who is 
innocent cast the first stone." 

My friends not yet in the light, in whose souls the 
seeds of truth are not yet quickened by the light of 
love, by affliction, or so-called trial, may sneer at these 
facts, and say that they will allow their spiritual ad- 
visers to dictate their charity and their faith, but believe 
me, ye who listen, there is no such compromise with the 
angels whose unerring record tallies every act of man, 
and marks them in the tablet of his own heart. The 
ceaseless tide of compensation flows on, and on, forever, 
and charity can no more be separated from justice, than 
the sun can be torn by the power of man from yonder 
heavens. Who then will dare to dispense judgment, 
or who will place the responsibility of so-called crime. 
Not thee, O man ! whose standard is the narrow plat- 
form of sectarianism, whose life is measured by the 
shortest span, and whose happiest hour is when some 
necessity of the great brotherhood of humanity enables 
thee to place thy stock and trade beyond the reach of 
him who toils for his daily bread, and whose shivering 
offspring is denied only that which fashionably dressed 
charity regards as popular. Oh, ye who would enter the 
silvery gateway and listen to the sweet songs of an 
approving conscience, know that ye can entertain an- 
gels ; and that within the gardens of your souls will 
spring up bright and beautiful flowers which will shade 
thy pathway to the temples (which ye are) of the living 
God within. Be not strangers to yourselves; listen to 
those intuitions which speak unmistakably to thy spir- 



EXPERIENCE OF VOLTAIRE. 397 

itual being; let them be first in the market-place and 
at the fireside, for ye will find them bringing you nearer 
and nearer to the kingdom, which first sought and 
made to dwell within you, all other things shall be 
added thereto. 

Voltaire. 



APPENDIX, 



It is unnecessary for me to say any thing in regard to the sub- 
ject-matter presented in the preceding pages : that will be judged 
and weighed on its own merits. But the circumstances which 
produced it, may interest and have its bearing with some, in 
forming a correct estimate of its value. Being more familiar 
than any other person with the development and incidents con- 
nected with the mediumship of Mrs. Sweet, a brief statement of 
some of them may prove interesting to those not familiar with 
the different modes of spirit communication. 

At the time of our marriage, in 1844, and for some time after- 
ward, Mrs. Sweet was a member of the Methodist Church, and 
the opinions entertained by that body were held sacred by her 
up to the time of her development as a medium in 1852, and, 
indeed, for some time afterward; her mind slowly advancing 
into more liberal ideas, and taking a broader view of things both 
temporal and spiritual. 

On the other hand, I had long been a skeptic, and could see no 
evidence of a future existence, either in the books I read or in 
the theological teachings of the day. I was, however, always 
ready to examine any evidence on that point which might be pre- 
sented, and consequently, when the Rochester rappings began to 
be heard of and talked about, I took the first favorable opportu- 
nity to investigate their claims to a spiritual origin, and for that 
purpose Mrs. Sweet and myself joined a private circle which 
met at least once, and sometimes twice a week. In a few weeks 
after we commenced attending the circle, Mrs. Sweet became a 
subject for spirit-control. Her first sensations were a feeling of 



400 APPENDIX. 

lightness, first in her limbs, and then throughout her whole per- 
son, as though the power of gravitation had ceased to act, and, 
as she said, she feared she should rise up to the ceiling. Soon 
there came a great desire to speak, hut this she resisted so 
strongly, that it was only after the controlling influences had 
gained sufficient power, that they forced out some words in a 
kind of half-suppressed scream. A few words were thus forced 
out, sufficient, however, to give us directions how to act in the 
case, and we, being somewhat startled and surprised, obeyed with- 
out hesitation ; and as her resistance was gradually overcome, the 
speech became more natural. After a few weeks, and a repetition 
of somewhat similar manifestations, her fears and doubts in 
regard to their evil nature, gradually wore away, her resistance 
became less, and she became an excellent trance and speaking 
medium. She also often saw and described spirits, and could hear 
what they would say. 

A spirit whom we knew as "Mrs." Remans," whose influence 
was gentle and agreeable, took the position of guardian to the 
medium, and assisted on all occasions when she could do so, 
either to aid. other spirits to manifest through the medium, or to 
relieve her from any unpleasant influence left by spirits who had 
been near, or trying to control her. After two or three years 
of guardianship, Mrs. Hemans gave place to an Indian spirit, who 
called himself "Bed Wing," and he continued faithful to his 
trust during the rest of the time that Mrs. Sweet remained on 
earth. He said that a good and wise spirit, whom he called 
" Plain Talk," had sent him to take charge of the medium. By 
"Plain Talk" we learned that he meant William Penn. 

During the last two or three years of her life, Mrs. Sweet was 
an invalid, suffering from that prevailing scourge of our climate, 
consumption. During that time she could rarely permit the 
spirits to influence her, and never to take full or deep control. 
In the course of her illness we visited Europe, and also the island 
of Cuba, with the hope that the change would restore her to 
health, but the disease was too deeply seated to be shaken off, 
and although travel and change of climate undoubtedly prolonged 
her stay with us, it could not cure. On the 25th of August, 1859, 



APPENDIX. ' 401 

she passed on to the higher life, where two beautiful children 
were waiting to welcome their loved and loving mother. A short 
time before her departure, she saw and recognized them. 

As an instrument through which spirits could express the finer 
natural feelings and affections, she was very remarkable. In our 
earlier experience we opened our doors freely to visitors, and 
many, many times have I seen prejudiced and worldly-wise peo- 
ple, who came with a pitying smile of incredulity upon their 
faces, go away sobered and astonished. Persons who came 
through curiosity, or to detect the trick, as they thought it to be, 
would often be affected to tears at the unmistakable presence of 
some loved one — perhaps a mother or sister, a father, brother, or 
child. And oh, what meetings they sometimes were ! The deep 
and heartfelt prayer of thankfulness, and the pure outgushing 
love of a mother, will affect even the coldest heart. Nature can 
not be successfully imitated ; the heart will not be deceived, nor 
its instincts denied, but when touched by the magic wand of love, 
its pent-up feelings will gush out as a mighty torrent, sweeping 
away, for the time, ail the barriers erected by a cold philosophy 
or educational prejudice, and making it once more like that of a 
child, natural and true in its instincts. 

At such times I have felt that I was indeed standing upon holy 
ground, and that the door of the unseen world was thrown open, 
and spirits and mortals were gladly clasping hands across its 
threshold. 

Mrs. Sweet was very sensitive to the magnetic sphere of spirits, 
and the presence of different spirits affected her differently (the 
same as did the presence of persons in the flesh), some pleasantly 
and some otherwise. Occasionally, when a spirit whose sphere 
was not congenial, desired to give something through her, they 
would approach, touch her head, and then withdraw to a little 
distance ; as they did so, she could perceive a stream of pale, 
magnetic light, like a rope or cord, extending from her head to 
the spirit, and through this the words would come distinctly, 
and strike upon the. brain as sensibly as light blows from a stick, 
or as large drops of water falling upon her head would have done. 
In these cases, her brain only was influenced, making it more 



402 APPENDIX. 

agreeable for her than to have her whole person enveloped by 
the magnetic sphere of the spirit. 

She, as did the spirit?, often felt the want of words, and the 
great inadequacy of language to express or convey what they 
desired to, so as to be understood. 

Individual spirits, of different nations and tongues, would at 
times manifest through her. The French, the German, Italian, or 
Indian, would each converse in the broken English, and with the 
peculiar accent of their land or race. Sometimes I would be able 
to understand but a few words, only sufficient perhaps to identify 
the language ; at other times a spirit would talk very volubly, but in 
a tongue which I could neither understand nor distinguish. When 
in company with other mediums, I have seen her and them influ- 
enced at the same time, and the spirits through the mediums 
would talk easily and rapidly to each other, in a language often 
foreign to any one present, and sometimes one of the spirits 
would act as interpreter, and translate what the other spirit said. 

But it was at the. home fireside that the beauty and value of 
this great privilege was most felt and appreciated. It was there, 
after the labors of the day were over, when our children were 
asleep in their beds, and noise and bustle had given place to 
peace and quietness, that our spirit-friends would announce their 
presence, to me ever welcome, and we would talk, as in by-gone 
days, with loved friends who had long since passed from our 
sight, or listen to words of instruction and wisdom from those 
wdiose attainments rendered them capable and desirous of benefit- 
ing others. In such cases I would sometimes take my pencil and 
paper, and write down what the spirit said, and in this way a 
large portion of the matter contained in this book was obtained 
and preserved. If it brings to others even a small portion of the 
pleasure which it gave to me, I shall feel doubly compensated in 
having iaid it before them. 

Before closing, I would say a word to all those who would seek 
or expect to be. benefited by intercourse with spirits. Be sure 
that your motives are honest, and your desires pure and unself- 
ish. Seek not to make it a means for worldly elevation, or to 
pander to the grosser desires and appetites of the outer body. 



APPENDIX. 403 

If you do, disappointment, bitter and deep, will follow in your 
footsteps, and the kingdom of heaven, which all men desire, will 
be buried deeper than ever from your sight, under the darkness 
and rubbish of a lifeless materialism. 

G. Sweet. 



